


Red Sun Rises like an Early Warning

by RiverOfFandoms



Series: Daryl Dixon [2]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Age Difference, Alexandria Safe-Zone (Walking Dead), Death, Eventual Negan, Eventual Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Male-Female Friendship, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Survival, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:54:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25145779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiverOfFandoms/pseuds/RiverOfFandoms
Summary: Continuation of 'It's a Long Way Down to the Bottom of the River', so essentially a part two. I wanted to split these up into parts because the structure changes from NOW and THEN to normal, so didn't want it to be confusing!Alexandria is your new home. With walls and people safe alike, can you move on from the past trauma of what the Governor did to you? Are you prepared for what's to come?"You closed your eyes, shutting the world out. You clenched your fingers into fists by your sides. You opened your eyes at Daryl’s touch, his hand on the side of your neck, holding your head. He was close to you. You appreciated it. You liked the feel of his hand on your face, it was an unexplainable comfort. He pressed his forehead to yours, then he lifted his chin and kissed your forehead softly.'Believe me,' you whispered, looking into his eyes again. He was still close to you. 'You’d be the person I’d tell everything to, the only person. I just need time.'He nodded; his thumb wiped away a stray tear from your cheek. 'I’ll wait.'"
Relationships: Daryl Dixon & Original Female Character(s), Daryl Dixon & You, Daryl Dixon/You, Philip Blake | The Governor/You
Series: Daryl Dixon [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1727455
Comments: 10
Kudos: 98





	1. Chapter 1

“So…” the woman started. She was called Deanna.

You stood up straight, but the woman had taken a seat on a chair opposite the couch. You’d gotten a semi-annoyed, semi-worried glance from Daryl as he left the room before it was your turn, but you had no idea what would be in store. You stared the camera down like it was your worst enemy; it was propped up on a tripod, blinking furiously at you.

“You weren’t always with Rick’s group?” the woman asked, flicking through a pad of notes. You weren’t sure how many people she had “interviewed” before you, you weren’t really keeping count. In fact, you were sure you were still dreaming. Being around so many clean people on clean, safes streets, as if the world hadn’t flipped upside down and thrown you all straight into hell.

You’d been even more quiet since the night in the barn. You didn’t want any conversation to turn back onto the Governor. The awkwardness of sharing your darkest secret to everyone, strangers, even, it just didn’t sit calmly with you. It was a constant cause of stress. Now when the group looked at your scars, they knew who the main culprit was.

“Yes, we got separated,” you answered.

She watched you a moment and put her pad of paper down into her lap. You were trying hard to ignore the flickering red light on the camera she had set up to record this conversation. You hadn’t seen a camera in a while. The feeling of it on you was more intense than you remembered.

You were still standing up, as if sitting down on the couch behind you would show your acceptance of all this.

She watched you carefully, “Please,” she gestured to the couch opposite her.

You swallowed. If you didn’t comply, it would only start unnecessary arguments. And so far, the place seemed safe enough. Though, it was still early days yet. You sat down but you looked as if you were ready to jump up and run at any moment.

“When?” she continued the interview, referring to your separation from the group.

You looked away from her to your hands which were bunched up together in your lap, “At the farm.”

“Maggie’s farm,” she said, nodding. She stared at her notes again.

_Hershel’s farm,_ you wanted to correct her but there would be no point.

The room she brought you in was clean and well-kept with lots of homely decorations and books stacked up against one another. Books. Did they have time to read in this place?

She noticed you surveying her room, but she continued anyway, “How did it happen? The herd?”

“Yes,” you responded, quietly.

“You’re going to have to give me more details than yes and no, Y/N,” she said, and though it could seem like it might come from an annoyed place, it hadn’t, it was kind. Her eyes were kind, and it surprised you. 

Your fingers tensed around each other, “The herd came in. I got off Daryl’s bike. Everything happened too quickly… I got left behind.”

She nodded. “I’ve heard multiple accounts of that night already, it sounded like a lot happened all too quickly, like you said. What were you doing on Daryl’s bike?”

“We were trying to keep some of the walkers at bay. You know, roamers. A bunch of us were out in vehicles trying to slow the attack… I got off to help the others at the house. A wave of walkers made it passed us and they only had a couple people who could help defend themselves and the others.”

“So, you risked your safety to help them?” she asked, her head tilted in curious fashion.

You weren’t sure if you liked the woman. You weren’t sure if you liked anyone anymore. New people always caused anxiety because they couldn’t be trusted. And it didn’t help that you didn’t understand her motive as to why she let you all in in the first place.

“I guess so,” you answered, glancing away from her again.

She nodded, and you couldn’t figure out what she was thinking. She decided to move on, “Then you got separated, what happened after that?”

“I survived on my own.”

“Were you always on your own?” she asked, and the emotion behind the question suggested she knew something else. When you didn’t respond, Deanna shifted in her chair and retried her question, “I’ve heard some things from the others. Talk of a man who had a community similar to mine, with walls. Rick said that everyone, but Abraham, Rosita and Eugene knew him.”

“I don’t know what he told you…” you started in defense.

“Enough to know that you were affected in some way.”

You swallowed. You felt the same nausea creep up from your stomach again.

She decided not to push you. “How did you find Rick and the others again?” she asked.

“Uh…” you said, your mouth dry. You were trying to push past the sudden surge of anxiety. You swallowed again. “We had a common enemy. This guy called Joe. I pissed him off and he was after me. He got me. But I escaped. I ran straight into Rick, Carl and Michonne.”

“This was after the attack on the prison?”

“Yeah…”

She nodded again, “What did you do to Joe to make him so angry with you?”

You looked away from her. Then, you nervously ran a hand through your greasy hair, “I helped some people get back at Joe for what his group did. Joe took some of their haul. His group never kept much on them because they were wanderers, but they stumbled across this storage place, a bunch of containers. One of them had a lot of supplies. So, I helped this group take it from them.”

“Why?”

“Joe and his cronies raided them a while back and almost left them for dead,” you said, quick to defend yourself. “They helped me when I needed it, so I owed it to them. Besides,” you continued, “Joe’s group were a bunch of rapists. I’d happily kill anyone who treated people that way.”

Deanna was silent for a moment, her scribbling paused. Then she continued, “When did they help you?”

You glanced at the camera and then at your feet. It was suddenly so weird. All of it. The couch you sat on, the room you were in, the idea that this town would be safe from everything outside its walls. Nothing was safe. No one was safe. Nowhere was.

You swallowed, “After the Governor,” you finally said. There was no use in hiding it anymore. Though, it wasn’t really about _hiding_ it. You just hated remembering. Every time you spoke about what he did or what had happened to you, it was like you were giving into his control all over again, feeding into his power over you.

“After you escaped Woodbury,” she suggested.

“Alright,” you started, deciding to just bite the bullet and get it over with, “If you really have to know for the sake of this… initiation interview _bullshit_ ,” you weren’t exactly thrilled to spill the story so manners didn’t matter to you anymore, “I’ll tell you in simple detail. No more questions about it. Okay?”

Deanna seemed almost amused by your sudden change in attitude. She sat back into her chair and you took her silence as agreement.

“I was with a couple of other people. They weren’t my friends, actually, they attacked my camp not long before and tried to steal my supplies. Their leader was an asshole and I eventually took him out. They followed me and wouldn’t leave, so I didn’t make them. They started stealing food and water. I noticed; it wasn’t hard to not notice the sudden abundance of supplies. But I chose to ignore it which was the wrong choice because Philip came right up to my doorstep and shot them both in the head and took me as his prisoner.”

“Philip?” she interjected.

You tried your best to suppress a frown. “The Governor. Philip was his real name.” You paused and ignored her curious stare. “I don’t know how long I was there, probably weeks. I got out. Then the thing with Joe happened. Then I found Rick.”

Deanna sat there opposite to you and let what you said sink in. Maybe she was taking time to make her judgement. You suddenly wondered if she’d let you all in or only a select few. “You’re a survivor,” she concluded. “I want survivors in my community. I want people like you who help others, who know how to survive, to teach the people inside these walls. I won’t judge you on past mistakes or experiences. But what you do from now on… that matters.”

You weren’t ecstatic about the thought of being accepted into a community of people who had no idea what the world out there was really like but… it was a roof over your head, walls, and food and water. And Daryl wouldn’t leave Rick, so he’d stay here too. That was enough for you. “I’ll do my best.”

“I’ll assign you a job when I’ve talked it over with my husband. In the coming week, everyone in your group will be given one. Everyone. That’s the terms of the deal, I accept everyone from Rick’s group, and they contribute in some way.” She got up from her chair, her notes left on the cushion. She walked around to the camera. She turned the camera off, the flickering light stopped. She looked at you, still standing. “Off the record,” she started, her arms crossed over her chest, “I understand you will have a hard time getting used to this place, getting used to being with people again. You, among some others, will struggle the most. But I need you to see that working together with everyone here is the _only_ way that we get through this.”

You felt taken aback by her comment. You swallowed and looked away. What did the others say about you? Did Rick talk about you? Daryl? Glenn, Maggie, Carol? Everyone? You shook those worried thoughts away. She had a point. It wasn’t like you’d go out into the streets and cause a fuss with people on purpose but… you weren’t entirely ready to just be buddy-buddies with people you didn’t know a thing about.

You stood up from the couch. You nodded at her, “I agree.” Maybe it was a lie. Just a small one. Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe somewhere deep inside you still knew that working together equaled survival. But it had been a long time since you’d seen it.

***

The interview left you feeling an angry kind of way that you couldn’t quite place, couldn’t quite describe. And seeing the houses they set aside for you made it worse. Everyone took advantage of what they offered, food, showers, more. But you couldn’t quite settle in as quickly.

You noticed Daryl thinking the same way as you, with his defiant attitude and refusal to shower. He nodded at you on your way over but talk between you had been minimal recently. You were hoping to fix that soon. The Governor took so much from you if he managed to take Daryl from you too…

You left the others at the house and found your way to the walls. They were tall and sturdy looking, definitely better than the glimpses you caught through smoke grenades of the Woodbury walls. You felt secure… but you also felt trapped.

You started walking the perimeter, close to the walls.

“Hey,” a voice sounded behind you, and you turned at the sound. You met eyes with a dark and unfamiliar pair, with dark hair to match. He smiled kindly.

“Hi,” you said, wondering if you had met him earlier. You didn’t recognize him, so you kept on walking through the grass, behind the houses, inspecting the walls. Your eyes glided over the huge steel sheets. Definitely bigger than Woodbury’s.

He caught up to you so that he fell in-step beside you, “What are you doing? Walkin’ the walls?”

He was a curious one. You couldn’t help but frown. Were they all like this, so eager to meet the new faces of people who’d been experiencing hell on Earth, while they were safe and secure inside these walls, inside sturdy homes with electricity and showers?

You tried to quicken your pace, “What do you think?”

He smiled and it took you off guard. He had a nice smile for someone so pushy. You looked away from him, and instead kept your eyes on the walls that surrounded the place, and this seemed to amuse him.

“You checkin’ to see if they’re gonna fall down?” he asked, still amused. He was walking backwards now so that he could eye you off, his face towards you, a couple steps in front, off to your right.

You didn’t like the way he talked to you. “Just having a look.” Though, it was harder and harder to actually see the walls since he stood in view.

He nodded, pushing his hair out of his face, he continued, “What’s your name?”

“Why?” you asked, stopping in your tracks. You stared at him, glare, and all.

He twisted his mouth in amusement, “Well, when new people start living next door, it’s only polite to introduce yourself. At least, that’s what my mom always says.”

You frowned, harder, “Well, you didn’t exactly introduce yourself, now did you?”

He bit back a laugh, his eyes smiled, “My name’s Aiden. Aiden Monroe, my mom’s Deanna Monroe. You would have met her by now.”

You suddenly felt embarrassed for speaking to him so harshly, for giving him an attitude. Not that you cared what he thought, but you did, in some sense, care what Deanna thought of you. You would have to keep up her trust in you and not cause problems. And maybe, even get some more information on this woman…

You smiled a little, but only a small one. You didn’t have to kiss his ass, but you probably shouldn’t go shoving his face into the dirt anytime soon. “Y/N.” Your last name didn’t matter much anymore, but you guess you could understand why his did.

“Y/N,” he tried out, and he nodded as if he approved of it. “Well, Y/N, I was wondering if you’d like to join me and my family for dinner one night, after you all settle in.” He tried to charm you with his dark eyes and a small smile that curled his lips.

You stared at him a moment. You didn’t really care to think about it, you knew your answer. It made complete sense. “Sure.”

***

When you came back to the house, people from your group were busy setting up beds. It was decided that you’d stay in the one house for a little while until things felt safe. You walked into the kitchen and almost swooned at the sight of a proper kitchen counter, a fridge, cooking utensils… You never thought you would be this happy to be able to cook a meal in a normal kitchen. Even if it would be just beans on toast.

“What was that about?” Daryl asked as he came up beside you. His crossbow was still slung over his shoulder and his dark hair still greasy, he obviously hadn’t taken advantage of the showers yet, unlike everyone else. And neither had you.

Rick eyed you a moment. You were surprised to see his old, officer-friendly-self back with a shaven face and neatly trimmed hair. He glanced at Carol who stood beside him. Everyone else was too busy talking or preparing the house to hear your conversation with Daryl.

“I saw you talking to that kid, what he want, hm?” Daryl asked, his eyes narrowed distrustfully.

You looked at them all a moment, and you suddenly felt as if you were being interrogated. You didn’t understand Daryl’s sudden interest, but you answered him anyway, “Well, he asked me over for dinner and I said yes.”

Rick held back a look of stunned confusion and alarm by tilting his head and squinting at you. Then he realized what you had actually said, and a small smile crept onto his face.

“ _What?_ ” Daryl asked, plainly, eyes firm. You could tell he was unhappy about it.

“That was Aiden, Deanna’s son,” you continued, crossing your arms over your chest in self-defense. “I couldn’t just say no to her.”

“But… it wasn’t her who asked,” Carol said, only seeming to piss Daryl off even more.

You frowned, shaking your head, “What do you mean? Why else would he ask? Besides, I thought it would be good if one of us tried to get to know her, you know. See what this is all about, right?” you looked between them, but they all had this expression on their face like they were going to burst out laughing any second… well, except Daryl.

Rick put a hand on his hip, twisting his mouth, “You just accepted a dinner date, Y/N,” he finally admitted, after almost succumbing to laughing his ass off.

You widened your eyes and went to say something but stopped short. No, it couldn’t be true. You tried replaying the moment in your head. _Oh hell_.

“I…I…” you were lost for words. You glared at nothing in particular as you tried to figure out how you could’ve missed it. It just didn’t cross your mind, when he asked, it being a _dinner date_ wasn’t even a possibility to you.

Carol smiled sweetly, like a mother dealing with her child’s stupid mistakes, “It’s okay, you were right. You should try and get to know Deanna.”

You shook your head, “B-but—”

Rick nodded, “Carol’s right, I mean, it’s definitely not what you thought it was, but you should use this to your advantage.”

“She don’t have to date this guy if she don’t want to,” Daryl argued, gruffly. He looked ready to knock some Alexandrian heads together.

“Stop being so jealous,” Carol pressed, and you tried desperately to hide the serious blush on your neck and face.

Daryl frowned, “I’m not bein’ jealous,” he said angrily, “she obviously didn’t realize what she was gettin’ herself into—”

“But,” Rick interjected, “This could be useful to us. That was why she accepted it in the first place, so why not?”

You felt annoyed that you’d gotten yourself into this predicament. “I can’t believe I didn’t even _realize_ what he was asking, I mean, who does that? We’re living in the apocalypse and you’re asking me out to dinner with your parents? For goodness sake,” you couldn’t bury your frustration about it.

Rick seemed amused by it.

It was embarrassing, and it was only going to cause you serious anxiety. You didn’t want attention like that. Besides…

“Like I said, she shouldn’t have to do it if she don’t wanna,” Daryl repeated, his voice stern. He looked at you comfortingly and you appreciated it.

“It’s too late now,” Carol said, shrugging her shoulders. You only now just realized how different she looked in her new, clean clothes with her pale colored cardigan and neat hair. Kind of like the old Carol you knew. “What’s done is done, you can’t exactly take it back, otherwise Deanna might think poorly of you.”

You bit your lip. She was right, of course. “Shit,” you breathed, looking away from her. You stared out the window of the house, eyeing the greenery and paved streets. It really was like you stepped into another world. Instead of worrying about if you were going to die, you were stressing over a damn dinner date with a boy. Almost just like old times. You finally looked back at them, “I’ll do it. But only because of why I originally agreed to. If he thinks this is an invitation to—”

“I’ll kick his ass,” Daryl interrupted, with a half smirk on his face.

“Okay,” you said, a little more confidently, now that you knew you wouldn’t be entirely alone on this.

“When is it?” Rick asked.

“He wanted to give me time to settle in first, so I think he was going to let me know.”

Rick nodded, glancing out the window too. He didn’t trust these people yet, you could tell, and he wasn’t wrong not to, but sooner or later, there had to be some kind of mutual trust otherwise this place wouldn’t last.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a day or two since you arrived at Alexandria. A lot of your people were already assigned jobs, like Carol, who was community-oriented with her cooking, or Michonne and Rick, who were in charge of security.

You, however, hadn’t been given one yet, and neither had Daryl.

You were a little nervous about it. Were you really that hard to fit in somewhere? You admit, you didn’t give a whole lot for Deanna to work with. Maybe you should’ve just acted like a different person, like Carol. If you weren’t given a job soon… would you be kicked out?

You’d heard rumors of a party that night, apparently as some kind of welcome for your people. When you first heard it, you laughed as if it was the most ridiculous thing ever. A party? You imagined yourself dressed up in heels and makeup, your hair done, and you shuddered. You had yet to find a new change of clothes, let alone wear a party outfit.

Daryl seemed to agree with you, though you weren’t really talking all that much. Things had been awkward between you. Not just because of what Aiden proposed but because of what happened in the barn. Now he knew why you were the way you were, but he didn’t know any of the details, and you could tell he was curious.

You just couldn’t let yourself tell him.

The others acted a little differently at times, but they weren’t walking on eggshells around you. They still treated you the same, give or take. Sometimes, you’d overhear them talking about you and the Governor, their speculations, but you never confronted them about it because you knew where it would lead. And you weren’t prepared to give them answers.

The sun had been a nice, constant warmth on your back that morning. You were busy weeding the front of the yard, trying to give yourself something to do, and trying to ignore the chaotic thoughts that poured into your head. Since you didn’t have a role to play in this community yet, you had to make your own work.

As a sudden shadow cast over the weeds, you notice that someone stood behind you. You gently tugged the last one up and out of the earth, threw the plant onto the pile beside you and stood up straight, eyeing the man vaguely. You weren’t sure if you had met him before.

He smiled. He was wearing a clean, dark long-sleeve shirt and his hair was parted and combed neatly. He noticed you didn’t recognize him straight away, so he offered a hand, “Eric.”

You took it cautiously, shook it, and said, “Y/N.”

“I know,” he said, kindly, “I remember you from the ride over to Alexandria.”

You stared at him a little too hard and then you realized he was with Aaron. He was the man who got injured and shot a flare into the sky. You let go of his hand, “Sorry, been meeting a lot of new people.”

“That’s alright,” he said, “I’ve been struggling to remember names, too. But I remember yours…”

You narrowed your eyes, wondering if there was a joke you didn’t get, “Why?”

“Because, you practically kicked down the door looking for Daryl after we got separated. If a girl with a bow and combat boots kicked down my door, I would run for the hills.”

You smiled a little. He had a point.

“Actually,” he began, “I came around here to invite you over for dinner.”

You squinted at him, “You mean, the party?”

“Oh,” he said, “No… I, uh, I mean over mine and Aaron’s place. We’re having spaghetti.”

Your eyes widened a little at the thought of eating spaghetti. “Canned?”

He shook his head.

“Count me in,” you said, “I didn’t really want to go to a party anyway.”

He smiled, “I’ll see you later, then.”

*** 

You decided to clean yourself up just a little, but you didn’t put much effort into it. You’d been wearing your old clothes, something about them still comforted you. But tonight, you exchanged your gritty long-sleeve top for another, similar in style, but different in color. It had a couple buttons at the bottom of the V-neck and was a nice shade of green. You paired it with your black jeans and boots.

You let your hair stay down. You’d cut it before the Governor, but it had grown to reach just above your armpits. You barely even noticed it had gotten so long, all this time spent without bothering to look in the mirror or care what you wore.

You combed it and let it hang naturally. Though your ends were looking worse for wear, it wasn’t too bad. Your face was clean, and your hair washed, you smelled of shampoo and old body wash that had probably already expired. But at least you weren’t sweaty and full of grime.

You made your way over to Eric and Aaron’s house. It was already getting dark and you noticed another house busying with guests. The party. You still thought it a ridiculous idea, but you suddenly wondered who from your group would attend.

You knocked on their door once you arrived and Eric was the one to open it and greet you. Aaron came into the dining room, his hands full of clean wine glasses and a bottle of red. He smiled, nodding in your direction as a quick hello before he started setting out the glasses next to their plates.

Eric had an apron on over his button-up shirt, and his hair was the same. You were thankful that they didn’t seem to dress up much either.

“Welcome,” he said, gesturing to the dinner table, “you can take a seat, dinner won’t be long.” He wandered back into the kitchen, “How was the walk over?”

You were grateful for his question, you weren’t one to initiate small talk, so sitting in awkward silence would have been the death of you. “It was fine, saw the party happening,” you took a seat in one of the chairs and noticed that an extra plate, and cutlery to match, were set out. Four places for three people. You frowned.

“Deanna’s idea,” Aaron said, pouring you a glass of wine. “We would have gone but…”

“We’re not exactly… the type,” Eric finished, suggestive of their relationship.

You nodded, “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t think I’ll fit in that great. I don’t even have a job yet.”

Aaron and Eric looked at each other briefly.

Then there was a knock on the door. The fourth guest. You turned towards the door in curiosity and watched as Aaron opened it. There were smiles and quick greetings between the two men, and you recognized the fourth guest to be Daryl.

You nodded at him and turned away, taking your glass of wine, and sipping at it without thought. Sudden images of spitting out the wine that Calvin forced you to drink flashed through your mind, but you swallowed it down, nonetheless. Alexandria would be a new start, memories like that wouldn’t ruin it. You hoped.

Daryl sat down directly across from you, which forced you to look into his blue eyes. He wore the same shirt, with cut-off sleeves, and the same vest as he wore outside the walls, his hair still as greasy as when you arrived, and his face blotched with dirt. You refrained from laughing at the sight of him, of course, Daryl wouldn’t cave to cleaning himself up so easily.

Daryl was busy staring back at you. He hadn’t seen your clean face and hair yet. And the long-sleeve top that suited your eyes and hugged your body made him feel strangely attracted to you. He swallowed, looking away, feeling nervous and insecure.

“Wine?” Aaron asked, hovering next to Daryl with the bottle.

Daryl eyed you briefly and saw that you had a glass, “Sure.”

“We finally get to drink wine together, like promised,” you said, taking another sip.

He averted his eyes and lifted the glass to his lips, “‘Bout damn time.” You could tell he wasn’t completely comfortable with the situation, and you wondered if it was because it was a sit-down dinner or if it was because things between you had started to change. Of course, you’d noticed it when it began. But you couldn’t place a finger on what was causing it, exactly.

“Promised?” Aaron asked, glancing between you both as he took a seat beside you.

“Yeah,” you replied, glancing at Daryl again as he swallowed his mouthful, “Back…” you trailed off, staring at your plate. It all felt suddenly absurd, the idea of being invited to dinner over someone’s house, like things had never changed. You understood why Daryl hadn’t changed his clothes or cleaned up for this.

“A while ago,” you continued your train of thought, “Daryl argued that whiskey and moonshine were the _only_ drink good enough for him, and I begged to differ.”

“It’s not like I haven’t had wine before,” Daryl argued, relaxing his shoulders a little.

You laughed, “You clearly haven’t had the right _kind_ of wine, if you think it’s not worthy enough for you to drink.”

“Pfft,” he said, shaking his head, but you could see the amusement in his blue eyes as he took another sip. He set his glass down beside his plate and glanced at Aaron, “It’s good.”

You smiled.

“It better be,” Aaron replied, holding the bottle in his hands. “I took it from some rich guy’s basement.”

“Almost lost a limb because of it,” Eric added, still in the kitchen.

You laughed a little at that, nodding your head in understanding. There had been plenty of times where you risked more than what you bargained for.

“How long have you two known each other?” Aaron asked, taking a sip himself.

You glanced at Daryl, who shied behind his long hair and looked to his plate. You fiddled with the stem of your wine glass, “Since close to the beginning,” you answered.

Aaron nodded, “I almost thought you must have known each other before all this.”

You hid your smile by swallowing. It did feel that way sometimes. Especially before your separation at the farm. Things had been rocky since reuniting but the trust that was there wasn’t ever broken or gone, just different. It was like you were both finding your way again, learning who each other had become since you last saw one another.

“Dinner’s ready!” Eric called from the kitchen, and soon he appeared in the dining room with a pot of spaghetti. He carefully placed it in the middle of the table, then took his apron off and sat down next to Daryl.

The smell of hot pasta and tomatoes made your stomach growl loud enough for everyone to hear, which earned a few chuckles. You blushed, laughing a little. It had been too long since you had a proper plate of pasta, and not canned stuff either.

“Let’s dig in,” Aaron said as he started serving up yours and Daryl’s plates first.

“How you been settling in, Daryl?” Eric asked, waiting for his plate to fill up.

You stared down at yours. You could feel your mouth practically salivate at the sight of the pasta. You carefully picked up a fork. You were starting to feel a little overwhelmed by the civility of it all, but you were thankful, nonetheless. You took a forkful and chewed, your taste buds exploding with Italian herbs. You sighed.

“Been alright,” Daryl answered with a mouthful of spaghetti.   
“This is… _so_ good, Eric,” you said, in awe. You washed your first mouthful down with some wine and it truly started to feel like the good old days. You continued eating, rather quickly, as if it would disappear if you didn’t finish it soon enough.

“Thank you,” Eric smiled, holding his fork up in the air, “I definitely cheated though, pasta was in a packet. Mrs Niedermeyer would not be pleased, she always goes on and on about finding a pasta maker.” He paused to chew and swallow another mouthful, “If you guys ever see one when you’re out there, you should definitely think about bringing it back. She’d love you for it. And then, maybe she’ll stop giving me an earful about it.” He laughed, taking his wine glass in his hand, “You know,” he looked at you and Daryl, “if it’s no trouble, of course.”

Your eyebrows furrowed and you glanced at Daryl, who had the same look on his face.

Eric stopped eating and looked to Aaron, a silent form of communication passed between them.

“I thought you asked them already…” Eric said, an eyebrow raised.

“Asked us what?” Daryl responded, looking between Aaron and Eric.

“Well…” Aaron started, “I _was_ going to wait until after dinner…”

You swallowed another mouthful of the pasta. You weren’t sure what it was they wanted to ask but having you both over for dinner finally made sense, they had an ulterior motive, of course. You shook your head; everyone always does.

“It’s nothing like that,” Eric argued, when he caught wind of your sudden change in attitude. To be honest, he felt sorry for you the most, but not in a pity-party kind of way. He knew you could handle yourself, but he knew you would struggle here, just like Daryl would. And he related to that. He felt he could relate to you best, so he didn’t want to screw things up just yet. “We wanted to have you both over for dinner for more than just asking something of you.”

Daryl frowned, “Well?”

Aaron put his fork down. “I wanted to ask you to work with me,” he said.

You turned your head to look at him, “Work with you?”

He nodded, “I don’t want Eric out there anymore, it’s too much. But I do need a couple pairs of hands to help me, it’s not always easy recruiting other survivors. You know that, after what we went through.”

You sat back in your seat. You were a little on edge after realizing they had other intentions for you and Daryl being there, but after hearing Aaron explain himself, it wasn’t so bad. In fact, it meant that you would have a job here and wouldn’t be kicked out of Alexandria, like you feared.

Eric nodded in agreement, “We just thought it would be best this way. Besides, it seems like you both have a lot of experience, already. Fighting walkers… people,” he rambled. He looked at you, “Being imprisoned and _escaping_ ,” he said, a little too excited, “That’s gotta count for something, right?”

Aaron glanced at you momentarily, suddenly aware of your escalated tension. Daryl too. Aaron quickly interjected before Eric could go on, “We would need good judges of character, I believe that you both fit the bill…”

You stood up from your chair, abruptly. Aaron looked at Eric who looked back, already knowing he had said too much. He knew he should’ve just let Aaron talk but when he was nervous, his mouth had a mind of its own.

You’d finished your food and your wine, anyway, and after hearing Eric speak of your time with the Governor so carelessly, it made you feel queasy. How many people knew about what happened to you? You knew your scars were visible the first day here but…

You pushed your chair in, “Thank you for dinner, I’ll consider your proposal.”

“Y/N,” Aaron started, unsure what to follow it up with.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I ramble when I get nervous…” Eric tried, apologetically.

You turned to go, but Daryl spoke up, “Y/N,” he started, getting out of his own chair, causing you to stop. “Don’t leave.”

You turned around, tugging at the hem of your shirt, “Who told them?”

Daryl shrugged, “I don’t know.”

“So, everyone in this fucking town knows what happened to me, but half of them probably don’t even know my name?” you spat, angrily. You couldn’t even have a nice, sit-down dinner without thinking of the sick prick who kept you locked up for weeks.

“Word travels fast around here, it always has… people like to gossip,” Aaron explained, calmly.

You looked at him. You weren’t exactly angry at them. It wasn’t their fault that they knew about it, but it _was_ someone’s fault. You eyed Aaron, “Who told you? Deanna?”

Aaron shook his head, “No. No, she wouldn’t do that.” He swallowed nervously, “I might’ve overheard a conversation… in the barn.”

You frowned, “When you were spying on us?”

He hated the term you used but he nodded anyway.

You shook your head, a dry laugh escaping your lips, “Who’d you tell?”

“Only Eric.”

“And I only talked about it with Aaron and you,” Eric added. He sighed, “But, information has a way of spreading around here. People talk. But I promise you, it wasn’t us.”

You nodded. You didn’t move from your spot. You weren’t feeling so nauseous anymore, and you really believed what they said. You didn’t know why; it wasn’t like you trusted them. But something about the way they explained it felt true. “Alright.”

“I wanted to show you guys something,” Aaron said, “if that’s alright.”

You nodded, so Daryl agreed. You followed Aaron and Daryl to a door at the front of the house, which led into the garage. Aaron uncovered a motorbike from underneath a sheet, and he stepped back to let Daryl inspect it.

Bits and pieces of machinery and motorbike parts were left about, shelves of tools and other spare parts lined the garage walls. You stared at the bike. Just like old times. Daryl was probably thinking the same thing.

“This was all here when we came to this place,” Aaron explained. “I collected a few parts myself, but I never knew how to build a bike out of them. Thought I might learn but…” he paused, “I get the feeling, you already know what to do with them.”

Daryl nodded as he wandered the garage, lifting tools and pieces up for quick inspection.

“You’ll need it, if you decide to be Alexandria’s new recruiters.”

You looked over at Daryl who looked back at you.

“I chose you because of your experience…” Aaron continued, “But also because you know each other. I can see that. And I don’t think separating you would be a good idea, I learned that pretty quickly the night we tried to reach Alexandria. Besides… you both have reason enough to know a good person from a bad person.”

You didn’t stop looking at Daryl, even when Aaron kept speaking. Daryl glanced from Aaron to you. You knew your answer.

“Got nothing else to do,” Daryl said, quietly.

You turned to Aaron, “When do we start?”


	3. Chapter 3

“For some reason, sitting in a car in the middle of nowhere wasn’t what I imagined when I took this job,” you said sarcastically, glancing at Daryl who sat in the driver’s seat beside you. Aaron had instructed you both to stay put while he quickly gathered some buried supplies. He said it wouldn’t take him long and that it would be better if you both waited out near the road in case any walkers came by.

But after the rain started, you helped Daryl cover his bike as best as you could under the trees beside the road, and then took shelter within Aaron’s car. He spoke over the walkie every now and then, informing you both that he was okay.

“What did you imagine?” Daryl chuckled, staring out at the rain. Droplets littered the front window and passenger windows, streams of water snaked down the glass, and the front started to fog up a bit. 

You looked at him, his hair freshly washed and his face less dirty than before. Even though he started showering fairly regularly, for Daryl, anyway, he always managed to get smudges of dirt across his face as soon as possible. It was probably all that grease from working on the bikes. “I don’t know…” you turned to look out your window, “Stumbling across groups of weathered and fearful people with the hope that they’d be safe again.”

Daryl looked at you, an eyebrow raised, “Is that something out of one of your books?”

You laughed, nudging him in the shoulder, “Maybe my vocabulary has expanded again after being able to read books… but it’s really not that poetic.”

“Maybe you can start up a library,” he suggested.

The thought had crossed your mind, but you were busy with recruitment and you didn’t want to commit to anything you weren’t sure about yet. But it would be a nice project to have and it wasn’t like books weren’t important anymore. You’d already started your collection, when out in the big, bad world, if you found one of the books you liked or always wanted to read, you’d stuff it in your backpack and take it home.

“Maybe,” you replied, noncommittally.

“Just don’t think you can start luggin’ around even _more_ books in your bag, because there’s no way in hell I’m carrying it for you all the time.”

You laughed at that, remembering the time you had to pass your bag of books over to Daryl because your shoulders grew too tired. But hey, _he_ offered.

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” you said, smiling a little, “it’s too gentlemanly for your tastes.”

He feigned hurt over your words, which made you laugh harder. He liked it when you laughed, and he liked it when _he_ made you laugh. All these new feelings that started to seep in after reuniting with you again was confusing and different, but he didn’t mind it so much, most of the time. He was just happy that you were alive and safe.

Out in the rain, you spotted a blurry figure coming closer to the car. It was only one walker, but one less dead roamer would be better than just leaving it. You looked at Daryl.

“It’s just one,” he said, quietly.

“I know,” you replied, opening the car door. The sound of the rain grew louder. “But I’m not doing much anyway.” You stepped out of the car, your knife in hand. Your bow was still sitting in the backseat of Aaron’s car, and it was only one walker after all.

You approached the dead thing and its hands reached out toward you. It screeched in hunger as it eyed your flesh. You grabbed it by the neck, your fingers touching its cold, dead skin. You stabbed your knife through the eye socket and watched as it dropped to the ground, limp.

You blinked, wiping the water from your face with your sleeve. You stared down at the walker. Something about its face…

You stepped back. You wiped your knife on its clothes, on _his_ clothes, and left it alone. You wandered back to the car and shakily opened the door. You slid onto the seat and closed the door, hugging your legs close to your chest, your eyes didn’t leave the limp figure lying in the middle of the road. Your breathing was jagged and drops of water littered your skin.

Daryl watched you carefully. He had gotten a little better at noticing your anxiety levels. There were ways to tell. He reached out a hand and touched your shoulder, but you quickly shrugged him off. It must’ve been bad. “You okay?”

You shook your head. You tried calming your breathing, which worked. In and out, slow and steady. You sighed, “I knew him.”

Daryl’s eyes widened a little, “How?”

“From… from a group I helped out,” you answered, “the one that messed with Joe.”

Daryl nodded slowly. He hadn’t heard the details, of course, he hadn’t heard the details of any of your trials since the farm. But he knew what you were talking about, even if vague. “Bite?”

You shook your head, “Bullet wound, in his chest, I think. Unless someone didn’t know how to kill a walker or was just a really bad shot.” You tore your eyes away from the body and looked at your damp hands instead, “We weren’t really friends or anything… it’s just weird, you know, to know someone and then… find them like that.”

“Mm,” Daryl agreed. “You did a good thing, puttin’ it out of its misery.”

You nodded. The rain pattered down harder if that were possible.

“Y’know, if you ever just want to talk—”

“Daryl,” you warned, looking at him.

He stopped what he was doing and looked back at you. His eyes were soft but there was an unmistakable kind of pain behind them. “I just want you to know—”

“Stop,” you breathed, feeling your chest tighten again.

“That I will—”

“Daryl—”

“No,” he said, firmly. His eyes were still kind, but his voice rose with the harshness of the rain. He turned in his seat, “Listen to me,” he ordered, his eyes serious. “You can tell me. You can tell me what happened to you.”

“Why, so you can determine how fucked up I am now?” you argued, anger contaminating your voice.

“Where the hell did’ya get that idea? I just want you to know that I’ll _listen_ to you—”

“Well, I don’t need you to _listen_ to me. I don’t need you to _listen_ to my shit. It’s mine and that’s where it’s going to stay.”

He sank back in his chair in defeat, a frustrated sigh escaped his lips. “Fine.”

"Fine,” you repeated back, and twisted in your chair so that you were facing away from him. You stared out the window as the rain began to slow. This was how it was sometimes; hot and cold. You couldn’t control yourself, though. Every miniscule mention of that shit made your blood run cold, and you couldn’t stand it.

“I’m sorry,” he said, quietly. The rain had stopped, only a light, occasional drizzle remained.

You watched the road ahead of you. “Don’t be.” You got out of the car and stretched. Daryl’s car door echoed behind yours as he shut it. He eyed his bike.

You helped him with it. Then the walkie sounded, static and then Aaron’s voice, “On my way back, sit tight. Sorry about the rain, didn’t know the forecast, as usual. Over.”

You shook your head, smiling a little. You pressed the button on the thing and lifted it to your lips, “Lucky we had your car, huh? What’d you find? Over.”

“I’ll tell you when I get back. Over and out.”

“Hm,” you muttered, and clipped the walkie back to your jean pocket. You glanced over at Daryl, who was staring out into the trees. You hated it when you fought, and you especially hated it when it was about the Governor. That bastard still had rule over your mind, even now. “Daryl?”

“Hm?” he turned to look at you, his head tilted at a slight angle.

You kicked a rock across the road, “It’s hard for me to talk about it…” you started, looking at the rock instead of his eyes. “Because it’s hard to just even think about it. Everything just comes back, and suddenly I can smell him, feel him again, and I hate it.”

He watched you carefully, nodding in understanding.

You caught his eyes with a sudden burst of confidence, “Philip had this sick obsession with me. _I_ don’t even know how to explain it. It never made any sense.” You shook your head, your lip quivered, “Maybe he was just a sick, sick person, I don’t know…”

You sighed, “He had a daughter,” you said, though you already knew that Daryl had this information, from Michonne. “I think that maybe I was some kind of replacement for her but…” you shook your head again, blinking the beginnings of tears from your eyes, “But not completely, because of what he would do.” You closed your eyes, shutting the world out. You clenched your fingers into fists by your sides. You opened your eyes at Daryl’s touch, his hand on the side of your neck, holding your head. He was close to you. You appreciated it. You liked the feel of his hand on your face, it was an unexplainable comfort. He pressed his forehead to yours, then he lifted his chin and kissed your forehead softly.

“Believe me,” you whispered, looking into his eyes again. He was still close to you. “You’d be the person I’d tell everything to, the only person. I just need time.”

He nodded; his thumb wiped away a stray tear from your cheek. “I’ll wait.”

***

After the day spent looking for potential survivors to recruit, you came home empty-handed, though a little happier than usual. You felt as though you jumped one hurdle closer to moving on from the past, but there was still a long way to go.

You settled down for a dinner that Carol had cooked while you and Daryl were out. Most of the time, your people would come in and out of the houses you owned for quick meals, only to get back to your duties. But tonight, was a little different, it seemed everyone decided to crowd together in one house.

You and Daryl were the last to get there. When you walked in, everyone’s eyes locked on both of you and Rick started a slow clap and everyone joined in.

You shook your head, smiling at the image of all of them together like that, teasing you and Daryl for being late to dinner. “Hey,” you started, setting your bow down in the entrance, next to where all the coats and hats would go, “it’s probably _our_ rabbits that Carol cooked up for you tonight, you know.”

Rick chuckled, shaking his head.

“Better late than never, right?” Glenn argued your case, giving you a quick thumbs up.

You laughed and glanced at Daryl, who only shook his head at Glenn, and mumbled, “Watch it.”

“Get stuck in this rain?” Rick queried, passing Judith to Carl. Carl took her in his arms, smiling at the sleeping girl. You smiled at her, too.

“Yeah, just a little. Ride back home wasn’t too bad, though,” Daryl answered, shrugging his damp vest off. He was right, the downpour subsided and the ride back on his motorbike wasn’t as wet as you thought it would be. It only drizzled a little, so your shirt was a bit damp and your hair.

“We’ll have to start dressing warmer,” you regarded, now standing next to Carl, looking down at Judith as you spoke. She moved her fingers involuntarily and her sleepy eyes opened and closed.

“Is that aunty Y/N?” Carl cooed at Judith, causing your smile to grow bigger.

“Yeah,” Rick agreed with your previous statement, “I can already feel the chill.”

“You wanna hold her?” Carl asked, peering up at you from under his battered hat.

You nodded nervously, it being a long time since you held a baby. He carefully passed her over to you, and you held her the way you were supposed to, briefly remembering back to the odd aunt or cousin’s child you would hold in your arms at family gatherings.

She only protested a minimal amount before settling down again, cozying up to you in your arms. You thought you would cry at how sweet she was. You looked over at Daryl who was already watching you, and you smiled, “Isn’t she cute?”

He came over to you, peering down at her in your arms. He smiled, a smile you didn’t see that often. “How you doin’, lil’ ass kicker?”

“You still callin’ her that?” Rick mused, watching you both with his baby girl.

“Still?” you asked, looking up at Daryl.

“Called her that when she was born,” he replied. He looked over at Rick, “She gotta know her real name.”

“Judith’s her real name,” Rick laughed, his mouth twisted in amusement.

“Nuh-uh,” Daryl cooed, looking back down at Judith, “Which one you like better?”

Judith gurgled in response and you both stifled laughs as best as you could, so you didn’t wake her up completely.

“Quit teasing the baby and get some dinner,” Carol remarked humorously, setting the tray of food down onto the kitchen counter. “Plates are on the table.”

“Aw,” Glenn protested, Maggie by his side, “I think they look nice with a baby, don’t you?”

Your jaw dropped at his comment and you turned away from him, laughing nervously. You could feel the blush on your cheeks and neck. Daryl blinked and looked at his feet. They laughed quietly at both of your visible discomfort and you shook your head at their teasing, you had no words to respond with, and it seemed, neither did Daryl.

Carl came over to take Judith back, so he could go put her into her cot, and you whispered a goodnight to her before he left. Daryl stood beside you still, watching Carl disappear into another room not far from the kitchen.

“She’s gonna grow up and kick some serious ass,” Daryl commented humorously.

You nudged his side, “Especially with you as her uncle Daryl,” you teased, “I bet you’ll teach her to hunt squirrels as soon as she can walk.”

He bit the inside of his bottom lip before he answered, “Nah, I’ll teach her before then. Gotta learn fast. She’ll be catching them _before_ she can walk. And her aunty Y/N can teach her to read.”

You rolled your eyes, “So, I get the boring job? While you teach her to shoot animals, I get stuck with the books?”

He headed over to the pile of plates left on the dinner table, “You’re the librarian,” he retorted.

You shook your head at him, and accepted the plate he offered you, “Yeah, a _lifetime_ ago. I’ll teach her the bow when she’s old enough, your crossbow is too big for her.”

You offered him a spoonful of the bake and he accepted it, holding his plate there until you gave him enough, then you started filling your own plate.

“I can help her hold the crossbow—”

“I’m telling you, you’d make great parents,” Glenn cut in, as he took a seat at the table, “I mean, you’re already arguing like an old married couple.”

You frowned out of embarrassment and the others only looked amused. Daryl grabbed a fork and shoved food in his mouth before he could embarrass himself further. You sighed, “How about _you_ have a baby first, then I’ll let you know how I feel about it,” you suggested, sarcastically.

Glenn and Maggie smiled at each other. When you heard they considered each other husband and wife, it wasn’t much of a surprise. They were a good team from the beginning. Even if they _did_ hold you and Daryl up while on a supply run just so they could get it on.

You wouldn’t be that surprised if they took your advice seriously.

“If Glenn and Maggie had a baby, now would certainly be the best time for it with the walls and strength in numbers,” Eugene concluded, adding his two cents. He took a forkful of food into his mouth as everyone grinned humorously at each other over his analytical comment.

Everyone crowded around the long dining room table, pulling up seats in spaces that they could. The table certainly wasn’t big enough to seat everyone properly but you all managed, some holding their plates above their laps, others even sitting crossed legged on their chair.

You were shoved in between Daryl and Maggie, quietly spooning your food into your mouth, and watching with a sense of contentment at your friends talking so animatedly to each other. It was like a big family dinner. A familiar pang hit your heart at the thought, but it was more so at the thought of ever losing any of them. Of course, you missed your family, but you were thankful you had the people you did, with you now.

Daryl nudged you curiously when you weren’t touching your food. Your spoon (since you ran out of forks somewhere along the way) was sitting on your plate, your mouth closed but empty of food. Your eyes hovered to his at his touch, and you tilted your head at him in question.

“Not hungry?” he suggested, gesturing to the lack of eating.

You smiled a small smile, dropping your head a little, “No… just happy,” you caught his eyes and held his stare a moment before you turned back to listen to the others’ muddled conversations, lifting your spoon to your mouth. It was true. You were happy.


	4. Chapter 4

You nervously headed downstairs after you finished showering. Tonight, was your dinner date with Aiden, and you were feeling a little uncertain about it. You never really went on many dates before all of this, even before you quit college. And the fact that you weren’t going for the right intentions only made you more nervous.

You practically crept downstairs. You were suddenly thankful that the group was split up in between two houses now, so not many people would witness this moment of humiliation. You entered the kitchen, after quickly scanning for immediate threats, but it seemed only the handful of people who already knew about this whole thing occupied the room.

They turned as you entered, hearing your shoes click against the hard floor. Carol smiled in encouragement, but you only pulled at the hem of the dress she’d given to you earlier that day. It wasn’t even short, but you weren’t used to exposing your legs much these days.

“What the hell is that?” Daryl growled, and then caught eyes with the culprit, Carol.

Rick got up from where he sat and eyed you over, “You clean up pretty well,” he commented with a small smile.

You frowned, “I don’t know…” you wearily eyed Daryl, who stood close by, still frowning, evident by the hard crease in his eyebrows and the turn of his lips, “Is it too much?”

“Yes,” Daryl answered honestly.

Carol rolled her eyes at him, “She looks great! Besides, this dress was just lying around with no one to wear it.”

“But…” you swallowed, suddenly feeling very insecure and _very_ vulnerable, “What about… shouldn’t I wear a jacket or something?” you hugged your arms to your chest.

“You look great,” Rick reassured, his hand on your shoulder, “These scars? Don’t mean a thing.”

“But I mean… they’re going to have questions, right?”

“You told Deanna everything you could in your interview?” Rick asked.

You nodded, suddenly shying away.

“Then she won’t push you. I know she won’t. Especially not at dinner. She’ll do everything she can to make you feel comfortable.”

You nodded again, your eyes on your feet. You sucked in a big breath and tried to smile. Rick and Carol seemed pleased with their plan, and what they said did help with the nerves a little… but Daryl’s obvious objection to the “date” was distracting. You caught another frown from him as you headed towards the front door.

Before you could leave, though, Daryl caught up to you on the porch front steps. You were about to turn him away, you assumed he was going to try and stop you one final time, but instead he stood there in complete silence.

“Daryl?”

“You look good…” he said, quietly, “Nah, you look great, like they said,” he confessed and sighed, fidgeting with the long hair that sat on the back of his neck. “Just didn’t want you to think you weren’t.”

You smiled, his words warmed your heart, and your cheeks went pink. He wasn’t always so affectionate with you, but when he was, it always had an effect on you, you just couldn’t quite place it. “Thanks,” you breathed, aware of your nerves.

He looked at you, almost longingly, but you couldn’t tell in the dimming light of dusk. He was jealous, of course, but he didn’t really recognize that emotion, it was so new. He knew that he liked the way you looked and that he felt frustrated it wasn’t for him but for some other guy, but he couldn’t quite put a word on those feelings just yet. “If he does anythin’ you don’t like, you kick him in the balls and come talk to me, ‘kay?”

You laughed a little, your hand covered your mouth, and he _loved_ that the sound was for him. “I’ll see you later,” you imparted, and turned to go meet up with Aiden who’d be waiting near the corner of your street.

Daryl nodded you a goodbye and watched you all the way until you disappeared around the corner. He sighed. The confusion welled up inside him like a big, uncomfortable bubble. He hadn’t dealt with any of this crap before the world went to shit. He didn’t care how he felt. His feelings never mattered because that was just how it was where he came from.

But now he was beginning to suspect otherwise.

***

Aiden walked you all the way home after dinner, which was nice. He seemed nice, most of the time. Other times, you could recognize a buried college-frat-boy in him and that irritated you a bit, but no one was perfect. Besides, tonight wasn’t really about him.

Your conversations with Deanna seemed to go really well. You thought you got along quite nicely. Somewhere, deep inside, you still had that educated, nice, respectful girl within you, and she definitely showed herself tonight. You didn’t think you had any of that left.

You talked a lot about where they came from and what Spencer studied in college and what Aiden’s plans were before everything happened. You talked about your new job as a recruiter, and Aiden made some joke about finding more young people to befriend.

Deanna told you about her plans for the people here. She was headstrong and motivated to make this place a real home, and even though you still didn’t trust her, you longed for what she said to come true.

It was weird to sit down to another meal around the table, in safety, like everything was normal again. You first felt that when you had dinner with Aaron and Eric, and Daryl, on the night of the party. It was overwhelming then. Now, you’d gotten a little bit more used to it, but it still reminded you how things had changed.

Aiden walked you right up to the door. You eyed the windows as you approached the house, wondering if anyone was around inside. It wasn’t that late, so they could be out for a quick walk around the community or having dinner altogether at the other house. The quiet inside suggested they were busy.

But Daryl heard the footsteps approach the front door. He was the only one in the kitchen, because, as much as he hated to admit it, he was determined on waiting for your safe return. He had to know if everything went okay.

He left the kitchen counter and slowly crept up to the front door when he realized you weren’t coming inside straight away. He heard you laugh in response to something Aiden had said, and he refrained from opening the door to interrupt. Instead, he kept his cool and leaned against the entrance and listened, which he wasn’t proud of.

There was silence before he heard Aiden move close to you… before he heard Aiden press his lips against yours. Daryl felt like he was intruding too much so he took a quick step backwards and practically stumbled into the kitchen. He leaped for the fridge and Carol side-eyed him from where she now sat, on a stool by the bench. She sighed, shaking her head at him.

Finally, the front door opened and closed, and you came into the kitchen quickly. You were breathing a little faster than normal, which was like an alarm to Daryl’s ears. He noticed everything about you, every little detail, so he knew when something was off.

He glanced over at you and closed the fridge door. Carol watched in silence.

“Y/N?” he asked and moved closer to you.

You shook your head and took a step back from him as he approached. Carol peered out the kitchen window to see that Aiden had walked off. Then she walked over to where you stood and stopped next to Daryl, not wanting to elevate your panic by distressing you further.

You touched your lips with your fingers. Your eyes were round and scared. You blinked. “The last time that happened… the last person who kissed me…” you turned to look at the front door, as though you might see _him_ lurking there, but it was shut tight, the porch light was off and the entrance was empty. You felt sick.

"Hey…” Daryl tried softly. He reached out to you, but you only stepped back again.

You were visibly upset, your face contorted with a deep-seated anger and disgust. You hugged your arms to your chest, “I gotta go shower,” you choked out and turned to run up the steps. You disappeared onto the next level.

Daryl sighed out of frustration. Not because you ran off or because you were upset in the first place, but because he couldn’t stop that from happening to you, _again_. He felt so completely useless that it only pissed him off. He stomped around the kitchen restlessly for a bit before Carol spoke up.

“She meant…” she started, realizing what you were talking about, “ _The last person_ … she was talking about the Governor, wasn’t she?”

Daryl nodded. He turned to look at the empty stairwell. You’d only just showered before leaving for dinner, so he knew you only wanted a place to be alone… and maybe to wash off the memories of the Governor. He knew the feeling all too well, so did Carol.

Carol watched Daryl in silence. She knew the pain he felt for you. She knew how guilty he felt about leaving you behind on the farm, hell, she felt guilty for being the one on Daryl’s bike instead of you. She was aware of the evident connection between the pair of you, unlike her friendship with him, it was something more. “Has she told you much about it?”

He swallowed, dropping his stare to his shoes, “Bits and pieces…” he sighed, “She just needs time. I think she’s still getting used to the idea that she can share what happened with us. With me.” He brushed the hair out of his eyes as he looked up at Carol, “She told me she thought she’d never see us again, that she’d be alone until she died and wouldn’t ever have to talk ‘bout what _he_ did to her.” He chewed the inside of his bottom lip momentarily before he continued, “But she’s openin’ up, you know, bit-by-bit.”

Carol nodded. “That’s what trauma does to you,” she said, thinking back to her past life spent with Ed. She met eyes with Daryl, “Kind of reminds me of someone…”

He frowned, chewing his lip still.

“You know,” she started, crossing her arms over her chest, “I remember how she got you to open up back at the farm. I know I helped with that but I for sure can’t take all of the credit,” she smiled. “Maybe you can be that person for her now.”

He nodded, “I’m tryin’ to be. But it’s damn hard. I don’t know how she had so much patience with me.”

Carol laughed a little, “You learn it, over time. I’m sure you’re already more patient than you used to be.”

He huffed in amusement. “I just…” he trailed off. He wasn’t sure how to express his feelings most of the time. It was something he was still trying to figure out. You’d helped him with that back on the farm but with everything that happened after that… “I just want her to be okay. I want to help her be okay.”

“I know,” she affirmed, nodding in an understanding way. She knew the protectiveness he felt for you. She saw it every day, even when you weren’t around. Even at the prison. She remembered the times he’d go out searching for you. He always said he was looking for supplies or going hunting, or even later, when he was looking for the Governor. But she always knew that a part of him was still looking for you.

“Like you said,” she continued, “You’ve just gotta give her time.”

***

You couldn’t sleep. Even after showering again, which didn’t damn well help that much anyway. It wasn’t like you could just wash off the things that the Governor did to you. Carol even brought you a mug of tea and one of her cookies, but you still couldn’t calm yourself enough to close your eyes. Every time you tried; you’d see Philip’s face smirking at you.

You sat up from your bed in a rush. Your hands went to your hair as you felt its newly cut strands. When you’d showered and looked in the mirror, you remembered the stupid hairbrush that Carol had offered you before you started getting ready for the dinner date with Aiden. It was a well-looked after, wooden brush she’d found amongst some stuff that wasn’t being used, along with the dress. When you saw the thing held out to you, you almost threw up. You’d declined it, claiming you already had a hairbrush, but you knew Carol could tell you were lying, you just didn’t want to talk about it further. All you could think about was Philip brushing your hair. And with the sudden memory of Philip’s lips on yours, you decided that was that and you cut your hair back to barely shoulder length. A spur of the moment decision panicked and alone inside the bathroom after the date. The haircut was a little choppy, but you’d done it before.

The room you occupied was small. It was probably just a storage room or an office. You were on the ground level, near the kitchen, and your room was tucked away near the stairs. It was big enough for a bed and your things, that was all that mattered. You thought back to the nights spent in the tent, you hadn’t slept like that since.

You slipped on your boots and glanced at your bow which leaned against the wall near the doorway to your room. You _could_ go outside of the walls, but it was so dark, there’d be no point. All the animals would be asleep so hunting would be pointless, and it wouldn’t be dawn for a while still, so you’d just be stumbling around in the dark with walkers lurking around every corner.

So, you left your bow behind and quietly crept out of the house after pulling on your jacket. You thought about your exposed arms and collarbones. The Monroes didn’t care so much about your scars, like Rick had said, but you did notice the glances. They were kind enough to not say anything, though.

But Aiden’s unexpected kiss left you restless – and not in a good way. You didn’t see it coming otherwise you might have tried harder to stop it from happening. It frustrated you. Philip left his visible scars, but he also left invisible ones, and only now were you beginning to realize that.

You escaped the house without a sound and started with a jog around the perimeter of the community. Maybe if you ran for long enough, your body would tire out more and you’d _have_ to sleep, or you’d collapse. Either way, you’d be knocked out for a couple hours and at least that was better than not sleeping at all.

It was almost peaceful. Your thoughts soon evaporated like water and your mind was strangely empty for a little while, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other, and your breathing. But you couldn’t run forever. You slowed to a walk to stretch out your muscles. Then you stopped completely, raising your arms so your hands rested on the top of your head as you inhaled and exhaled. You stared back at the house and a memory resurfaced of the morning runs you’d sometimes used to go on with Shane, at the farm. You blinked; you hadn’t thought about him since Daryl told you how he died. It wasn’t like you were best buddies with the guy, but you had gotten to know him a little, and it was strange to think of him all of a sudden. You shook the thought of him away and headed towards the house.

As you arrived, you noticed the porch light was on and someone standing on the steps. By the outline of the figure, loose flannel, and long hair, you could tell that it was Daryl.

You swallowed. You glanced at him before taking a seat on one of the porch steps. You weren’t ready to go inside just yet and you didn’t mind the cold, night air so much.

He stood there a moment as if hesitant, then he sat down beside you. His knee touched yours as he positioned himself, and he said, “Can’t sleep huh?”

You nodded, hugging yourself tighter.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” you answered.

“Aight,” he replied, nodding his head. But he didn’t move from his spot.

You were glad he didn’t.

He stretched out an arm and his fingers touched the ends of your shorter hair, “You cut your hair?”

“Mhm,” you said, nodding a little. “Got sick of it being so long,” your fingers brushed by his, still entangled in the ends of your hair, and you turned to face him as he dropped his hand, “Does it look alright? I kind of did it in a rush…”

He nodded, “I like it.” He turned his face a little as he felt his cheeks warm.

There was silence for a little while and the racing of your heart died down. It was strange. Aiden’s eyes on you, his touch, his words, it panicked you at a moment’s notice. But Daryl had the opposite effect. His voice soothed you, his touch comforted you and just being with him calmed you like nothing else could. You knew it was because you trusted him. You trusted him with your life. But… it was more than that. Much more.

Daryl shifted his position a little, stretching his leg. He looked as if he wanted to say something, you could tell by the way he chewed the inside of his lip, his eyes glancing to you and then back to his hands. He pushed his hair back from his eyes, “Did I tell you how I found Merle?”

You shook your head.

He nodded, swallowing. “The night we rescued Maggie and Glenn, the night you escaped Woodbury, I went after Merle and got caught. Governor tied me up and threw me in one of those rooms you talked ‘bout. I was blindfolded. Thought he might kill me,” he chuckled dryly, remembering back to when it happened. “Before one of his cronies took me out of the room, I couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you. I felt like I failed you, coz now I was gon’ die without ever finding you. But then I got dragged out into some kind of wrestling ring, and the Governor pitted me against my own brother for the whole of Woodbury to watch. Andrea, too, that was how she found out about us.”

You looked at Daryl. “Andrea saw that happen and she didn’t leave Woodbury?”

Daryl shrugged his shoulders. “Governor had a way with people,” he didn’t look at you as he said that. He was busy staring at his hands. “Only reason Merle stuck with ‘em was coz he had protection and food, and the Governor treated him like some kind of glorified lackey. As soon as he turned on Merle, Merle split.”

You swallowed, nodding. “Sounds like Philip. He…” you sighed, “He’d give hope or comfort—” you shook your head, pressing your face against your hand. You couldn’t look at Daryl as the images of Philip kissing you poured into your head again, the feel of his lips on yours, the way he grabbed at you for more. It made you sick; sick that it happened and sick that you let it. Your hands covered your face and then slid into your hair, where your fingers gripped the strands tightly. You held your breath, waiting for the awful feeling in your stomach to be over.

Daryl’s hand touched your shoulder, and he kept it there when you didn’t tense up or shake him off. You jiggled your foot up and down nervously, as if it expelled the deep panic from within you. Your mouth felt dry, but you needed a distraction, “How did you escape?”

Daryl could sense that you were distressed but he wasn’t an idiot, he knew you needed something to keep your mind from wandering too deep. “We put on a bit of a show for ‘em ‘til the walkers came out. Then we fought the walkers together. Rick and Maggie showed up, shot down a bunch of people, and we managed to make a run for it.”

You shook your head, “I can’t believe we were so close to each other, and we didn’t find one another…” 

He nodded; his eyes pained by the thought still. A moment passed before he continued, “Point is,” he said, fidgeting with a small rock he’d found sitting on the porch, “The Governor liked it. He liked controlling people. He liked owning ‘em, too.” He glanced up at you, “I saw that. I saw that with my brother. I saw that when we found out what he did to Andrea. So, what he did to you, whatever it is, I don’t want to know because I think you owe it to me or some bullshit like that, I want to know because I care.”

You nodded. There was quiet between you, just the faint rustling of leaves in the shifting wind. You’d relaxed a little since Daryl touched your shoulder, and since you heard his story. You realized you felt safe enough to try telling him something. “I still see him sometimes,” you finally said, quietly. You didn’t look at Daryl, instead you focused on your fingers which were laced together, your arms around your legs, hugging your knees to your chest. “Sometimes, I see him so clearly that he speaks to me. Like at Terminus when I flipped out.”

Daryl watched you carefully. He remembered how you used to listen to him, how careful you were with your words. He hoped he’d learned how to do that, too.

"Other times…” you blinked, taking in a breath, “Other times, I only see a shadow of him. His face. His eyes. His smirk,” you spat, feeling the hatred well up within you. “I hate him for what he did, and I always will. But I need to let it go because… because…” you choked on your tears; they were so sudden. You frustratingly wiped at your eyes. “Because the bastard still controls me, even though I’m not tied up in his dungeon anymore.”

Daryl reached a hand to your shoulder again. You let him touch you a moment, then you took his hand from your shoulder and held it instead. You squeezed it tight and he squeezed back, letting you know that he was there for you.

You licked your lips, “When Rick told me that Philip had an eyepatch… it bugged me for days.” You finally looked at Daryl, your eyes were still wet, but you weren’t crying fresh tears anymore. “I didn’t know why until today, until I… ‘til Aiden kissed me, and I remembered how Philip would kiss me, and pretend that everything was okay, that I was safe, that I was… _his_ to own. It’s like… I remembered everything with fresh eyes.”

Daryl felt a deep disgust to what Philip had done to you, and now more than ever, he wished he were the one to have put a bullet between his eyes.

You sighed, as if it helped to expel the anxiety within you, “It was after I escaped Woodbury. A long time after. I was walking through a small town; I don’t even remember what one. And I saw him.”

Daryl’s eyes widened a little.

“But at the time, I didn’t know it was him. I don’t know if he saw me or not. He looked so different. At the time, I thought it was a walker, until I realized he was wearing a pack and had a couple weapons on him. He had a wild beard and longer hair… and the eyepatch. I didn’t see him up close, so maybe that was why I didn’t recognize him. But now… now I know. It had to be him.”

“If I’d known it was him, I could have killed him. I could’ve killed him, and you would still have the prison… Beth would still be alive, Hershel too… All the people you lost…”

“You can’t blame yourself for not knowing it was him,” he replied.

You shook your head, “I could’ve killed him when I was trying to escape Woodbury.”

He shook his head, “You can’t dwell on all the things you _could’ve_ done. It only makes it hurt worse.” He rubbed his thumb in circles over the back of your hand out of reassurance. “Besides,” he started, “If the prison hadn’t been taken down, I wouldn’t have found you. We wouldn’t be here, in Alexandria.”

You closed your eyes. He pulled you into an embrace, a side-hug. He let go of your hand and wrapped his arms around you as best as he could, since you were still sitting on the porch steps. You leaned your head on his shoulder.

Listening to his breathing helped you forget about the Governor, if only for a little while. You missed Daryl so much that it hurt and being away from him for so long had hardened you into this distrusting, shell of a person. But you wanted to change that. You just weren’t sure if it was possible.

You swallowed, “I thought about you every day I was in Woodbury.”

He was quiet.

“I thought about what you would do. How you would turn your pain into anger; how you would focus on finding a way out. I wanted to give up so many times but… the thought of… seeing you again, even though I didn’t really believe that I would, just the thought of it got me through what… what he did to me.”

“I ain’t ever letting that happen to you again,” he said softly. Then, his arms moved so his hands could cup your cheeks. He turned your face so that he was looking into your eyes as he spoke to you seriously this time, “I promise. You and me.” He searched your eyes and he finally understood what it was that he felt towards you, in that moment, that shining moment of vulnerability and trust, tears and spilled secrets, the desire to keep you safe and close by him until he died, he knew he loved you.


	5. Chapter 5

If you and Daryl weren’t scheduled on early morning help with breakfast or leaving with Aaron at dawn, you would spend your mornings side by side. Starting with a hot cup of coffee, just like old times when you slept in the tent. You would venture out onto the porch if it were warm enough and rejuvenate yourself with caffeine, sometimes two cups would suffice. Then after your fix, you would join Daryl in some hunting.

You’d explore the green forests of D.C surrounding the community, getting to know the roads and abandoned shacks. That was helpful both for all-day hunting trips and recruiting, since Aaron insisted that you know the roads like the back of your hand, and you didn’t argue with that. It was a good advantage to have. 

Spending time with Daryl in the forests calmed you. You’d had a lot of practice since the farm, and he noticed. You could keep up with him better and keep up with how many rabbits or squirrels he shot. He liked the competition. One thing you hated about hunting alone was the sneak attacks from walkers but having an extra pair of eyes to watch your back helped with the feeling of inevitable trouble.

You stopped to tie up the shoelaces on your boot, which had come undone somewhere along your travels. 

“C’mon, keep up,” he joked, eyeing your boot. He was a little out of breath from all the running, but he felt more alive than ever being amongst the trees and animals.

“ _Man down_ ,” you laughed, looping the lace around your fingers, “I missed this.”

He nodded, “So did I.”

You finished the bow up with a double-knot and got up from crouching, “You wouldn’t believe how many times I’d get pissed off when someone with me would make too much noise. Their boots clambered through the woods like giant’s feet,” you shook your head, your hands resting on your waist as you caught your breath back, “Had to leave them behind, eventually. Or we’d get no dinner.”

He huffed in humor, “‘Lotta people out here _tryin’_ to hunt for survival, they forget about _technique_.”

You laughed, readjusting your quiver on your shoulder, “You tell ‘em, Daryl.”

He shrugged, leading the way through a thick group of shrubbery and trees, “I will.” He bent under a half-fallen tree, and you followed closely behind. “Those Alexandrians don’t know a damn thing ‘bout survival.”

You nodded in agreement. It was true, to an extent. Of course, they knew some things, they’d lost people too. But they didn’t know the cost yet. As much as it made you happy to see Carl hanging out with kids his own age, playing video games, it only reminded you that letting your guard down would be what destroyed you.

“Guess we should teach it to them, then,” you suggested, your eyes scanning the woods for walkers and food.

“But are they gonna listen?” he asked thoughtfully, stopping in his tracks. He crouched down so that he could inspect some animal tracks, a small animal by the looks of it. “That Aiden kid…” he started, avoiding your eyes as he stood up, “I don’t like him.”

You breathed, a little too loudly, and Daryl mistook it for a frustrated sigh. You only looked at him as his eyes narrowed.

“He goes ‘round ordering _us_ what to do, like we don’t know shit. I saw him get in a fight with Glenn!” he protested.

“Yeah,” you started, “and Glenn knocked him to his ass.”

“Where he belongs,” he spat. He turned his head at a snapping twig, not too far away from where you both stood. He sighed, “Prolly scared half the game off with my yellin’, sorry…”

“It’s okay,” you said, and gestured to the couple of rabbits tied to your belt, and his, “I think we got enough for today.”

He nodded, and you both decided to head back to the community. You travelled in silence. You understood what Daryl meant. They hadn’t gone nearly enough through the shit you all had but it also didn’t mean that they couldn’t learn…

All the thinking was giving you a headache, so when you got back to Alexandria, you made yourself a hot cup of herbal tea. You were steeping the tea in your mug when Rick walked into the kitchen. He eyed you a moment, and by the look on his face, you could tell something was wrong.

You frowned at him as he rubbed his palm over his close-shaven face. A short growth of stubble scattered his chin already, though not nearly close to the wild beard he had before Alexandria. He stood in the entryway to the kitchen in silence.

You felt your chest grow tight, “What?”

Another familiar face entered the room, walking through the hallway. The backdoor closing echoed in the distance. You met eyes with Daryl who glanced from Rick to you, uncertain. You were beginning to feel nauseous. The two men stood on opposite sides of the kitchen, here for the same reason.

“Aiden and Glenn’s supply group came back…” Rick started, hand on hip. His eyes darted to Daryl’s in hesitation, then he continued, “Aiden and Noah didn’t come back. Tara got injured, she’s in the infirmary and they’re not sure if she’ll come conscious.”

You nodded, slowly. Two people, once living and breathing, gone again.

Your eyes dropped to your cup of tea, and you lifted the bag out of the hot water and dropped it carefully into the bin. You watched the steam rise from your mug, knowing it would be too hot to drink yet. You were only just talking about Aiden to Daryl, only just hoping he’d learn to survive. Deanna had such high hopes for her community, now she’d have to deal with the loss of her own son.

Daryl watched you with careful eyes and nodded Rick a goodbye as he turned to leave the house. He had to go inform a few other people in the community and start an investigation for the purposes of finding out what had happened, exactly.

“You alright?”

“Mm,” you said, your eyes still watching your tea. “Noah was a good kid,” you looked up at Daryl, and he nodded in response. “Aiden was… Aiden,” you finished, quietly.

“I’m sorry,” he said, unsure of what else he could say to help.

You shrugged, “That’s life,” you held the cup to your lips and blew the steam away before taking a small sip, testing the heat level. It was a little hot still, but you could tolerate it, so you sipped at it again.

He stood at the edge of the kitchen, wanting to say more but words weren’t exactly his strong point.

You wandered over to him, leaving your cup on the kitchen bench. You neared him, almost cautiously. Being around Daryl was dangerous, you weren’t sure what you might do if too close. The feelings that were there, that lingered, invaded your mind most days.

You touched his shoulder, offering him some comfort. Death was always hard, though a part of your lives more often now, you weren’t sure if you’d ever just get used to it. You squeezed his shoulder and leaned in close before pressing your lips to his cheek. It was slow and careful, gentle, and though he shared forehead kisses with you all the time, this was different.

You pulled away, giving him a sad smile. His ocean eyes lingered on your lips and then met your eyes, searching them for an answer you couldn’t give him, yet.

You turned back to the bench to grab your tea when his hand held yours, stopping you in your tracks. You looked over your shoulder at him, eyebrows slightly raised in question.

“You really okay?” he asked, blinking. His hand didn’t let go of yours.

“Yeah, you?”

“Mm,” he answered. “Where you goin’?”

You reached out for your tea with your other hand, and then turned back to face him properly, “Just to my room. I think I just want to sit for a while.”

He suddenly looked shy, biting his inner lip like he always does, “Can I sit with you?”

You nodded. You led him to your room which wasn’t a far walk from the kitchen. You sat on your bed and he sat beside you, both in silence. You set your tea down on the small bedside table and wrapped both you and Daryl up in a blanket. You leaned your head on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around you, a comfortable position easily assumed.

“Remember the tent?” he asked after a while.

You swallowed a mouthful of your tea, “Of course, best sleep I ever got.”

He hummed in agreement, “I miss it.”

“So do I.”

His embrace tightened around you as he shuffled himself closer, his fingers played with the ends of your hair. It was a soothing comfort, and you closed your eyes, your tea long forgotten.

Soon, you both sunk back to lay on your backs. You sleepily curled up close to him, his arm still held you, though it was lazily strewn over your waist. The rhythm of his breathing and the warmth of him against you sent you off to a dreamless sleep.

***

You were out of Alexandria with Daryl and Aaron again. It was a needed change in scenery since the community was slowly growing more suffocating with every passing day. Deanna was busy mourning her son and dealing with Rick’s attitude over the people’s lack of survival skills, as well as the mystery of what happened on that supply run.

The birds were chirping up in the trees as you three stalked through the woods. It was a quiet day, not a whole lot of conversation mulled between the three of you because of the uncertain times back home. Of course, you and Daryl were on the same side, but you weren’t so sure what Aaron thought.

You were busy following a man in a red hood. Every now and then, you’d glance around for signs of any small animals, too, just in case you could score an extra rabbit. Daryl commented humorously one time that you cared more for rabbits than finding new people, and you didn’t deny that.

The air was much frostier now, though no snow would fall. Daryl was clad in a couple of layers and his leather vest, Aaron in flannel and waterproof jacket and you were wearing your recently favored sweatshirt and a thick coat to keep the rain and wind off. As you all trudged through the trees in silence, you watched your breath fog up the cold air as you exhaled.

“So, there’s a meeting tonight?” you puffed, climbing uphill after the two men in front.

Aaron turned his head at this, looking at you over his shoulder, he nodded, “Deanna’s going to determine what to do with Rick…”

You nodded and caught a weary glance from Daryl. You frowned up at him, shrugging, as if you were defending yourself. He only shook his head at you and mouthed, _don’t start shit_. He gave you a look and then turned back to watch where he was walking.

You mumbled to yourself like a child. You just wanted to be clear about things. If they were going to toss Rick out of Alexandria, you wanted to know for sure. Obviously, you knew that Daryl wouldn’t just let that happen; no one from your group would. You weren’t too sure what was going on with Rick and Carol and Daryl, but you trusted Daryl’s judgement, as always. That was enough for you.

“Here,” Aaron said, crouching down in position amongst the bush. He pointed out to a field and you quickly spotted the guy you were following. Aaron pulled out a pair of binoculars and looked through them.

You and Daryl both crouched beside Aaron in silence, only the faint crunching of twigs and leaves under your feet filled it. He passed the binoculars to Daryl, and Daryl said something about the guy knowing how to keep the mosquitoes off him. You chuckled, of course Daryl would know that.

Aaron set up his listening device and you stared at the thing, chewing your lip. That was how he listened to your confession of the Governor, the night in the barn. You sure had good timing.

He noticed you looking at the device. He pulled the headphones off his ears, so they rested around his neck, “Sorry about…”

“No,” you cut in, shaking your head. “It’s okay. I get why you had to.” You noticed Daryl glancing at you, the binoculars lowered from his eyes. You looked up at Aaron, “Guess I just had bad timing,” you joked, smiling.

He let a chuckle escape his lips, and he glanced down at the device, then his eyes met yours again, “To be honest, your story was quite a defining moment, for me.”

You tilted your head, eyebrow raised, in question.

“Hearing about your group working together to defend yourselves from a bad guy, you being captured and surviving that, only to reunite with your friends after, working together to beat dehydration despite everything that happened…” he shook his head in awe, “it’s an amazing feat. It’s what I needed to hear.”

You nodded, short and small, almost unnoticeable, but Aaron saw it, nonetheless. You never really looked at what happened to you as something to be amazed about. It was always viewed with contempt and disgust. You never really dwelled on your ability to survive it all as a positive thing, just as something necessary.

Maybe, he had a point.

Aaron shifted the headphones, so they sat over his ears, and you were switching between being a lookout for walkers and watching the red hood through the binoculars with Daryl. When you got tired of watching the guy, you drifted off behind the two men into the woods. You informed Daryl of moving position, and although he seemed almost reluctant to let you go, he nodded anyway.

You suddenly wondered if Aaron made the right choice in getting you involved with recruitment. He said you had enough reason to know a good guy from a bad guy, and maybe that was true, but was that really his intention? Being out here meant you had to trust your companions with your life. He was right to trust Daryl but what reason did he have to trust you? If you were him, and you saw how you acted, you wouldn’t be so sure. You were a little reckless and uncaring, you had major trust issues and your reality didn’t always make proper sense. You had bad anxiety and panic episodes… what if you got them into trouble? What if, when it came down to it, you couldn’t defend them like they’d defend you?

You frowned at the dirt. You had been swirling patterns in it with your finger as you thought over the muddled feelings in your head. You always worried more than normal even before everything changed, but now it was like a constant noise in your ear that wouldn’t go away. The slightest hint of trouble or familiarity of the Governor, and you were a wreck.

You sighed and sat back on your heels, resting your hands on your knees.

There was a sudden snap of twigs to your far left, ahead of where you crouched. You stood up in an instant, scanning the line of trees before you. It was still pretty early in the day, maybe close to noon, so you could see fairly far back into the woods. But nothing appeared out of the ordinary.

There was a rush of noise to your right, and you turned at the sudden sound. A walker clambered over roots and sticks towards you. You grabbed your knife from your belt and ducked its hungry lunge at your flesh. You side-stepped and came around the back of it, grabbing its collar. You pulled the collar back and in a quick motion, stabbed the walker through the soft, decomposed skin of its head. The knife sunk into its brain easily and ended its “life”. The corpse dropped to the ground as you let go of its shirt.

You turned to go when you noticed something cut into its forehead. You moved its fringe away with your fingers so you could see more clearly. It was a ‘W’. You frowned, finding the marking to be way too obvious for your liking, but you had no clue what it was associated with. You hoped it was nothing to worry about.

“Y/N,” a voice sounded from the edge of the trees, near the field. You turned and met eyes with Daryl, who nodded, and you guessed they were headed elsewhere.


	6. Chapter 6

“We’re fucked,” you breathed, sitting in the backseat of a random car. You, Daryl and Aaron had clambered inside in a rush after the trucks opened and let out a trap of walkers. Your heart was racing as you peered out through the grubby windows; dead fingers slid all over the glass in an attempt to get inside. The groans were merciless.

“What the fuck do we do?” you whispered harshly against the echo of the dead, looking between the two men in the front seats.

“You were right. We should’ve gone after the guy in the poncho…” Aaron mumbled, staring out his window, though there wasn’t a whole lot left to look at with all the dead faces that crowded the glass.

Daryl turned in his seat to look at you, “Y/N,” he eyed you, you could tell he was nervous, and he hardly ever was. He grabbed your shoulder with a firm grip, “I need you to focus.”

You swallowed and nodded, thinking back to the woods where you saw the ‘W’ in the walker’s forehead; the thoughts you were mulling over. You tried calming your breathing, still staring into his blue eyes. His touch on your shoulder grounded you. You lifted your hand and placed it on top of his where he held you, and you nodded again more firmly this time.

He squeezed your shoulder and broke eye contact, moving in his seat so that he looked at Aaron; his hand left yours. Something was wrong. Daryl was distant by nature, but this was different. He was quiet, and he was nervous, and you didn’t like it a single bit.

“I’ll go,” Daryl said, nodding his head. “I’ll lead them away and you both can make a run for it that way,” he gestured to the opposite direction.

“No,” you practically laughed since it was so ridiculous, and Aaron had said it too. You shook your head, grabbing his arm, “There’s no fucking way—”

He looked at you, his head turned, “Don’t question it, I already decided. If I don’t, we’re all fucked, like ya said.”

You kept shaking your head at him, staring at the radio, unable to look into his eyes and see him telling the truth. “I’m not letting you do that alone,” you answered slowly, meeting his eyes, finally. “It’s you and me, remember?”

His stern-look faltered. He shook his head, blinking the emotion away from his eyes.

“Together,” Aaron said, his breathing jagged. “We fight this together. Whether we make it or not, we have to do this together.”

You appreciated the encouragement. Now Daryl had no choice because neither of you would let him go alone.

Daryl contemplated this for a moment, taking out a cigarette. He smoked a couple puffs after lighting it, pressing his lips together, he nodded, “Aight. We’ll go together.”

Daryl counted to three as soon as he ditched his smoke into the cup-holder. A walker on Aaron’s side got hit in the head which stunned you all for a moment, but then, you all clambered out of your sides of the car and instantly started stabbing walkers, left, right and center.

You ran for the fence, maneuvering past walkers who reached out for your flesh. One of them grabbed your jacket sleeve and yanked you back, but as you turned, a man you didn’t recognize stabbed his wooden stick through its head. The corpse dropped to the asphalt and you locked eyes with a pair of dark ones.

You nodded at him and rushed towards the gate with Daryl and Aaron. The unknown man was the last to stumble through before Aaron shut the gate and locked it against the final oncoming wave. It kept them at bay, for now.

Daryl struck a few stray walkers in the head outside of the fence and you gasped for air, with wide eyes, almost wondering how on Earth you got out of there. “Shit,” you breathed, bending over to lean on your knees. You stared down at the road underneath your feet; grasping for reality again.

You glanced at the newcomer, a man dressed in a thick, tan-colored zip-up jacket and dark pants. He was still carrying his wooden stick, which was stained dark red, practically black, on one end. Aaron puffed out a thank you in between breaths.

Then he gestured to himself, Daryl and you, introducing you all. Daryl nodded at the man, and you followed suit, eyeing him over once again. It wasn’t every day that a stranger came and saved you from peril. In fact, these days, it was usually the opposite.

“Morgan,” the man breathed, introducing himself. He shifted hands on the stick.

“Why?” Daryl asked, who was just as surprised as you were to see him help, also still regaining his breath.

“Why?” Morgan repeated, almost amused. “Because all life is precious, Daryl.”

They discussed niceties for a moment, and Aaron offered Morgan a place at the community. But Morgan seemed determined to go where he was headed, and he passed Daryl a map to ask if he was going in the right direction.

You peered over Daryl’s shoulder at the map and saw a messy note scribbled onto the paper, signed Rick Grimes. Your eyes widened and you looked back up at Morgan, who blinked back in confusion.

“You know Rick?” Daryl asked, lowering the map.

Morgan nodded, “Yes. He’s an old friend.”

***

You traveled fast to try and beat the light. The sun was going down quickly and soon, it would be more difficult just looking out for walkers.

Morgan got into Aaron’s car, who led the way back to Alexandria. You were on the back of Daryl’s bike, despite the chill. You could never say no to riding with him. As he rode, you got to watch the sun set.

Recently though, you’d been more aware of how you touched Daryl. If your hands were around his waist or chest if your knees or thighs brushed by his. Back on the farm, you didn’t take too much notice of it. You liked it when he comforted you, but it was mostly friendly, besides the few times you felt otherwise. Back then, it seemed you just buried it down. Maybe because you didn’t want to scare him away. Maybe because the idea of you being more than friends was so unimportant, so pointless, you didn’t bother about it. But it wasn’t, you knew that. Deep down, these feelings that had surfaced since reuniting with him, they had always been there, you had just refused to see them.

You leaned into his shoulder, your chest against his back and your arms secured around his stomach. You pressed your face against his leather clad shoulder and closed your eyes, feeling the wind slice through your hair. There was a faint smell of smoke on his jacket. You could smell the sweat on the skin of his neck and the remnants of citrus shampoo in his hair.

You could stay like that forever.

You opened your eyes as he started to slow down, the low rumbling of his bike stuttered as you approached the gate of Alexandria. Aaron’s car had already stopped just outside, and it was apparent that no one was manning the entrance which was unusual. You thought it might have something to do with the meeting, but the gate should never be unattended, especially at night.

“We’re here,” Daryl said. He’d stopped the bike and was waiting for the gate to open. His hand left its position over the motorbike’s handlebar and reached behind him for the side of your head. “You fall asleep?” he patted your hair a moment before his hand dropped by his side. He turned so that he could sneak a glance at your face.

“No,” you said, quietly. “Was just getting out of the wind.”

He nodded, “You should a just sat in the car, then.”

You pouted a moment, “But you know I love watching the sun set while on the back of your bike.”

“Mhm,” he said, and turned to face the gate again.

You started to release your grip on him a little but as you moved away, chills rushed down your arms and legs and goosebumps broke out over your skin, and you quickly huddled back close to him. “Damn, it’s cold,” you chattered.

He laughed a little, pushing his bike forward at a slow pace as the gate opened. “I told you, there’s the car.”

You rolled your eyes, nestling your face close to his neck again, “But I like you and your bike.” The words kind of slipped out involuntarily, or maybe with less care than usual. Or maybe, you just saw those words in a different light now that you realized there were feelings there for Daryl. You weren’t sure, but you went bright red, nonetheless. It was silly. You’d shared a damn tent with the man.

“Uh-huh,” he said, amused, a small grin twisted his lips. He parked his bike, all the while you sat behind him still, and he turned it off.

You lifted your face from his shoulder, sure your cheeks were still flushed in embarrassment.

He got off the bike, swinging one leg after the other, and he stood on the asphalt and looked at you, his head tilted slightly. You looked up at him, suddenly so uncertain how to act around him. His eyes on you made you feel hyperaware of how you looked, and you rushed a hand to your hair to smooth it out again after all the wind.

“I like you on my bike,” he said, slow and careful. He chewed his bottom lip nervously, his eyes darting to his feet. He took a step closer, so that he was only centimeters from you, and could touch you if he reached out.

You chuckled, scooting over the seat so that you were closer to the front of the bike. You clasped the handlebars and peered up at him, “What do you think? Badass?”

He shook his head; amusement crinkled his blue eyes. You could barely make it out in the dark. “Badass,” he agreed.

You laughed at his answer.

“C’mon,” he said, reaching his hand out towards you. You took it and he helped you off the bike, but just as he opened his mouth to say something else, a sudden burst of cries and shouts ensued from the center of town. You didn’t hesitate to run towards the shouting, Daryl beside you, and soon you caught up with Morgan and Aaron.

You stopped in your tracks as you saw Rick shoot a man in the head, in the middle of a crowd of Alexandrians. The gunfire echoed loudly and drowned out the crowd’s gasps of shock.

He had blood splattered over the scruff on his face, cheeks and down the front of his shirt. But it didn’t seem to come from a person, as there was a walker body lying next to the fire. Deanna was crouched beside her husband, who was lying in a pool of his own blood. His throat slit.

Morgan looked to Rick, “Rick?”

You felt your hand clasp around Daryl’s, who still stood beside you, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the sight of it all.


	7. Chapter 7

“You nervous for tomorrow?” you asked Daryl, taking a seat beside him on the front porch steps. It was late, but it hadn’t quite ticked over to the next day yet. He was supposed to be asleep, and so were you, probably, but neither of you could sleep a wink.

Everyone had already said their goodnights and were probably curled up in their warm beds by now since there wasn’t much activity to be heard, the street was almost dead quiet.

“Not really,” he replied casually, chewing his lip, “It’s just the run through, y’know?”

You sighed, nodding your head.

He tilted his head, staring pointedly at you, “What’s that for, huh?”

You pouted, looking to your hands which were bunched up stressfully, “You know what.”

He nodded, breathing out a small sigh, “Gotta do what Rick says…”

“I know,” you replied, “I know. I just—” you turned your head and looked out to the street instead, which was dark and still empty. You stared at the walls in the far-off distance, your mouth twisted and your mind racing.

“Just?”

You used to be able to say things so easily to Daryl, now, ever since reuniting, it was such a struggle. Even the good stuff, even the normal things. You swallowed but you couldn’t meet his eyes. You realized you couldn’t even answer him. You pulled your knees up close to your chest and rested your elbows on them, your face buried in your hands.

Your head was still in your hands when you said, your voice a little muffled, “You don’t think… Does Rick trust me?”

“Course he does,” Daryl answered without a second thought.

“Then… why?”

Daryl was silent for a moment as he thought. It wasn’t like he was uncertain; he knew Rick trusted you. But he wanted to make sure he said it right, so you would understand. Sometimes, he’d let the wrong thing slip out and it would be chaos. “Like Rick said, he needs you here to protect the people left behind ‘n case anythin’ happened.”

You lifted your face from your hands, “But—”

“I’d say, he trusts you a hell lot more than some of the people he’s takin’ with ‘im, if he’s leaving you here to look out for his family.”

You stared at Daryl. You thought over what he said. The doubt about your worth to the group had been growing stronger ever since the thought first crossed your mind, and it was true that now more than ever, you were looking for that as a reason to other people’s choices. But maybe Daryl had a point.

You nodded, glancing at your hands. A moment passed and you hesitated before you said, “I just…”

Daryl almost looked at you humorously, there was something on your mind that you couldn’t seem to get out and he knew it. He could see it, right under the surface. “Just…?” it was like the conversation had circled right back to the beginning.

You closed your eyes, your hands balled into fists by your sides. This was stupid. You trusted Daryl with your life, you could say anything to him without fear, you knew that, but lately it was becoming harder and harder to share your feelings. You knew why, you just couldn’t fully accept it yet. You opened your eyes, but you didn’t meet his, instead you stared out into the view of Alexandria from your front porch steps, “I just don’t like being apart from you.”

Daryl blinked. He watched you, staring out into the street like you were, waiting for you to meet his eyes but you couldn’t. He knew, then, that you meant it, really meant it, because it was so difficult for you to say.

The connection you had back on the farm was never really spoken about. Back then, you just got along, there was no question as to why. Maybe, it was everything that was going on, maybe you both were just too busy to give it a second thought. Then when you got separated, you never had the chance to approach the topic. Now… now it was staring him right in the face. “I don’t like it either,” he finally said, somewhat quiet. He swallowed when you glanced at him as he spoke, and he found himself staring at his hands, suddenly nervous like a child. He thought about what Merle would say if he saw him now, blushing like an idiot in front of a pretty girl. He almost smiled at the thought. Merle would probably tell him to stop being such a pussy. He lifted his blue eyes, darker now in the night, to meet yours, “I’ll be back, y’know. Tomorrow is just the practice run. An’ when it really _does_ happen, I’ll be back for you. I _always_ will.”

You nodded a small, uncertain nod, your eyes darted nervously across his face. “But—”

“But?” he interjected, keeping your eyes on his as he tilted his head toward you. “Don’t you trust me?’

“I trust you with everything, Daryl,” you said softly, without second thought. It was never a question whether you trusted him or not. It was like second nature to you. “But you never know what the world’s going to throw at us… like back at the farm—”

He shook his head, “No,” he said, and his hand found yours during his heated defiance, his refusal of the anxiety you felt. His grip on your hand was warm and reassuring. “I’ll always come back to you.” His blue eyes searched yours, his hand squeezed in affirmation, “You listenin’ to me?”

You nodded, swallowing back the fear you felt.

He chewed his lip and hesitated, his hand left yours, and his voice was quiet but not lacking any hidden anger, “Do you blame me for getting us separated at the farm?”

You looked up at him, almost gasping at the thought. You shook your head, “No, no I’d never blame you…” you looked away at the porch steps and continued, “I might have been angry about it, and maybe I wished it went differently but…” you found his eyes again, “I’d never blame you.”

He swallowed, nodding small, “I blamed me.” He breathed in slowly, “I shouldn’t a let you off my bike,” he exhaled in a rush, as if forcing the emotion out through his breath, “I shouldn’t have _left_ without you.”

You touched his hand, which was next to you, gripping the edge of the porch step that you both sat on. “You can’t dwell on those things, it only hurts worse,” you said to him, quoting him on what he had told you, on the same porch steps, when you blamed yourself for not killing the Governor when you had a chance.

He looked at you. His hand touched the side of your face. He brushed back the fallen strands of hair behind your ear. All you could think about was the way he touched your face, in that moment, nothing else even mattered. Not the memories of the Governor, not the walkers, not the world, not anything, but the gentle way he held your face close to him.

He pressed his lips to your cheek, and then he sighed as he leaned his forehead against yours, your noses brushing by each other. His hand still held your face, his thumb rested on your cheek. Your face had never been this close to him. His kiss on your cheek was different, deep down you knew it was something more.

Your hand reached for his face, too, and both of you had your eyes shut tight. Maybe to block out the world, maybe to keep this moment lasting. You remembered back to what he said, “Always?” you breathed; your eyes still closed.

“Always.”

***

You tried to remember what Daryl had told you the night before. That he’d always come back to you. You tried to keep it as fresh in your mind as if it had just happened, like when you went to bed shortly after, with dreams of his lips on yours. But as you caught a glance of yourself in the mirror of one of the Alexandrian homes, with your dark hood and dirty face, the red ‘W’ painted on your forehead with someone’s blood, that memory was growing weaker and weaker.

When the group left to run through the plan on leading the walker herd away from Alexandria, the Wolves had attacked.

You saw Alexandrians slaughtered on the streets. Their throats or stomachs slit open, and their bodies left on the pavement or the road, their blood pooling on the asphalt, while the Wolves ran through the town knocking off everyone in their path. A lot of people weren’t made for this, you knew that, so you had to put a stop to it the only way you knew how.

You weren’t sure what Daryl would think if he saw you like this; covered in blood and taking lives, but it had to be done, there was no other way. Daryl had been getting used to trusting people again, wanting to let strangers into the community. But when Rick put a stop to the recruitment, that feeling started to change in the community as a whole – outsiders could no longer be trusted, something you’d known for a long time, and now it was evident in the way these people attacked Alexandria.

You put a blanket over the body that you’d killed, one of the Wolves. When all the commotion began, as the walls were set on fire and Alexandrians were slaughtered, you quickly ran for cover in the first house you could see. A Wolf had followed but you wouldn’t go down that easy. He was stupid for thinking he could kill you on his own. It didn’t take much, you hid behind the couch and tripped him up as soon as he entered the living room. You slit his throat just like he did with the innocent people outside and let him bleed, marking your forehead and stealing his head scarf to act as a hood, and you took his weapon.

You crouched by the living room window and peered out through the glass, hidden behind the curtain. You’d have to find your way to Carl and Judith. That was all that mattered now, making sure they survived, otherwise you’d have to face Rick.

The street looked empty, so you moved toward the front door and opened it carefully. You crept down the steps and hid behind a bush, gripping the Wolf’s machete tightly in your hand. You had an extra knife strapped to your belt. But your bow was back at the house, which was probably where Carl and Judith were… you hoped.

You were about to step out from behind the bush when a loud scream pierced your ears and you watched as a Wolf sliced through an Alexandrian’s stomach cruelly, blood and guts poured out onto the asphalt and the body fell to the ground. They were still alive, but it wouldn’t be for much longer. You swallowed back the panic that threatened to spill. You could feel it burning inside your chest, with memories of walkers and the Governor alike bubbling in your mind. But you couldn’t let that phase you now, you had Carl and Judith to worry about.

You closed your eyes briefly and gulped in oxygen, your hand clasped over your open mouth as it huffed out air. You thought of Daryl. Desperately, you pulled up memories spent with him – the good times. The times he made you feel strong and capable of surviving this forsaken world. You thought about what he said, last night, and your breathing started to calm.

But suddenly, you were pushed onto your back and the Wolf that had just killed the Alexandrian in front of your eyes now straddled your waist. His arm was pulled back behind him with intentions of slicing through your head, and without wasting time of thinking about how you were about to die, you rammed your leg into his genitals and rolled sideways.

The man yelped with pain and his arm dropped weakly to the pavement, where the axe fell. But he was quick to pick it up again. He jumped to his feet as you did, and you stared at him.

“You are not one of us,” he spat, “I could smell the sweat on you, the _fear_ ,” he teased, feigning a step towards you. You stumbled back silently, refusing to talk back. You had to focus on his movement, you wouldn’t let his teasing distract you.

But he had a point, you probably should have strolled down the middle of the street confidently now that you were disguised instead of hiding behind a bush.

You matched his movements, swaying a little from left to right. He was waiting for a moment to charge at you with his axe. You held the machete at your side, ready to swing, your grip tight around the handle.

“You’re going to regret—”

You leapt at him as a distraction, and he went to defend himself, but instead of swinging your machete at his throat or head, you ducked under his arm and moved behind him. As you straightened up again, he began to turn toward you, but you cut him down before he could take a swing at you with his axe. His body dropped to the ground and the blood quickly pooled underneath him. You stared down at the body, your breathing fast and panicked. You made sure he wouldn’t turn, and then you quickly ran down the road toward the house.

You were running fast now, your eyes darting this way and that as much as you could as you moved. You turned a corner rather quickly and almost stumbled into another Wolf. You both paused, stopping in your tracks, and you stared at the person who stood opposite you.

They were huffing and puffing, their chest rising up and down quickly. Their hand gripped a knife, hanging at their side. You couldn’t see their face properly because of the mask and hood, but the red W was prominent as ever. You were about to make a move toward them when they pulled the mask down, exposing their face in the sunlight.

It was Carol.

“Y/N,” she breathed, glancing at the red W on your forehead.

You pulled your hood down, “Carol?” you asked, almost in disbelief. “Thank God… You know where Carl and Judith are?”

“Back at the house,” she said quietly, glancing over her shoulder and yours. She pulled the mask back up onto her face and you pulled your hood up again, too.

“Good luck,” you said, and she nodded back before you both parted ways. She headed down the street you were just on, as you headed towards the house.

You rounded a few more corners before you finally had the house in view. You sprinted towards the front of it, and as you ran up the side you heard a loud gunshot crack through the air. As you stumbled near the porch steps, you caught sight of a Wolf sprawled over the grass.

You wished you had your bow or a gun with you and not a machete.

“Carl!” Ron shouted, pointing towards you.

Carl had come down the porch steps and had his gun aimed at the Wolf lying on the ground, who was begging for his life.

“No!” you said, pulling back your hood and stepping towards the two boys, “It’s me, it’s just me. Don’t take your gun off him.” You heard Ron sigh with relief, but his attention was quickly pulled back to the man on the ground. Carl didn’t move a muscle as he heard your voice.

But as you stepped towards Carl, the man leapt up from the grass and grabbed at his gun. You raised your machete and lunged towards them, but Carl’s gun went off, and the man fell to the grass again, this time dead.

You squeezed the handle of the machete, trying to keep yourself from slipping back into a panic. You wished you’d gotten to the man before Carl did, but then again, at least he could protect himself and the others.

Ron refused to stay at the house with Carl and Enid, so he started off in the opposite direction.

“Ron!” you called after him, taking a few steps in the same direction, but he was quick to disappear around the corner of the house. “Shit,” you breathed.

“Go after him, I’ve got it covered here,” Carl suggested, tucking his hair back. He glanced back at Enid who stood in the doorway to the house.

You shook your head, “I promised your Dad—”

“He knows I can take care of myself. Ron, he…” Carl stared of after Ron, “he can’t.”

You shook your head again, “No…” you headed towards the steps and into the house, “I promised Rick.”

***

The Wolves were taken down rather quickly, though not effortlessly, after Carol made it to the armory and guns were soon passed around to everyone in Alexandria. You’d gotten to your bow, but you kept to the outside of the house and took down whatever Wolf made it too close, with Carl’s help.

Once it was certain that all of the Wolves had been killed, you watched as Alexandrians mourned for the ones they loved, who were gone. They had to be put down before they could turn. As you wandered the streets aimlessly, seeing if anyone needed any help, you tried to ignore the smell of blood… and the fact that the others hadn’t come back yet.

Where was Daryl? Did something go wrong?

After you found out that Ron had fortunately survived, and his mom and brother, you quickly made it back to the house where Carl was. As you arrived, the unexpected smell of food hit your nostrils, and some sort of bell rang. You watched as Carl took something out of the oven. Probably one of Carol’s casseroles.

You realized you were still holding the machete, even after you had put your bow down on the front porch. You set it down against the wall in the kitchen, not really knowing what else to do with it, and caught sight of your bloodied hands. You tried to swallow the rising fear and panic that had been bubbling just underneath, all this time, but it was becoming harder and harder now that the adrenalin you felt was seeping away.

“Carl?” you asked, without looking away from your red-stained hands.

“Yeah?” he answered, still standing at the kitchen bench, the casserole cooling as steam drifted up into the air.

“You okay?”

“I’m okay,” he replied.

“Enid?” you asked.

“Enid’s okay,” he confirmed.

“Judith?” you clenched your hands, feeling the nails dig into your palms.

“She’s okay, too. Enid’s with her now,” he paused, shifting his position, he left the kitchen bench and walked closer to where you stood. “What about you, are you okay?”

You dropped your hands by your side but stared at the floor. You heard him approach you, but you couldn’t look at him. You weren’t really sure what was wrong. You were used to this. The deaths, the killings, both of the dead and the living, so why was it having so much effect on you right now? Rick’s family was breathing, you did what he had asked, so why the sudden panic?

You slowly dropped to your bottom and pulled your knees up to your chest. You tucked your face close to your knees and shut your eyes. It was a safety position. You felt protected and you could block out the world, even just for a little while. _You did what he asked_ , you told yourself, over and over again, but the feeling wouldn’t leave.

Carl left but only for a moment. The sound of water ran and then his footsteps approached you again. He set something down beside you and you heard him sit down, too. He grabbed one of your hands gently and pulled it to his lap. Then he scooted, what sounded like a bucket full of water, you could tell by the way the liquid sloshed up the sides as he moved it, closer and propped your hand over the water. He splashed the water over your bloodied hand, which was close to dry and flaky, and he proceeded to scrub it off with an old dish sponge.

You kept your head down, not wanting to watch the process, or you might’ve thrown up.

He cleaned one hand and then grabbed the other. Once both hands were scrubbed clean and dried, you peered at the boy as you lifted your head from your knees. He looked back with a sort of seldom look in his blue eyes.

You glanced at your hands, clean but a little red from all the scrubbing. “Thanks, Carl,” you managed, looking back up at him. “I’m sorry I…”

“It’s alright,” he said. “Don’t be sorry.” He wet his fingers in the bucket and pressed them against your forehead, where a dried-out W still lingered. You watched his face as he scrubbed it away as best as he could with his thumb. Then he grabbed the damp cloth and dabbed it over your forehead until it was dry.

“You did good,” he reassured, hanging the cloth over the edge of the bucket. “You made sure we were safe, made sure Judith was safe, and I’m really thankful for that. It’s nice to know I have someone else looking out for us.”

“You know, I always will,” you said, swallowing. “I’d never let anything happen to either of you.”

“I know,” he said, nodding his head. “Dad was right about you.”

You smiled at him weakly, nodding your head. You glanced to your hands. “They’re going to be alright, aren’t they?” you looked up at him again, “They’ll make it back?”

He nodded, “They’ll make it back. They always do.”

You sighed shakily, glancing at the doorway. _Always_.


	8. Chapter 8

As it turned out, after your conversation with Carl, Enid had disappeared. You looked everywhere for her but to no avail. You wanted to comfort Carl but he was suddenly distant. Enid was a survivor, you knew that, and so did Carl. She was probably out there, somewhere...

Michonne and two others were the first to make it back, and Rick followed not long after. As Rick stumbled through the front gates of Alexandria, a distinct groaning of walkers echoed behind him and you saw the corpses running after him, eager to taste his flesh.

Everyone crowded near the gate as Rick entered. You wanted to ask him what the hell happened, Michonne had explained briefly that the truck fell into the ravine so the walker herd had gotten loose, the plan was put into action, but people got separated and some were killed. She didn’t know if anything had happened to Daryl, Sasha or Abraham. Or Glenn.

But you didn’t have to ask as Rick started to explain how the herd got divided which led to the inevitable separation of the group.

Soon after, people started to dig graves for the bodies of the Alexandrians that were killed. The Wolves would be dumped and set on fire elsewhere, as was the usual way of doing things. Everyone was exhausted from the panic and the killing, and now the anxiety of part of the walker herd that surrounded the walls, so the work was slow.

The day dragged on and thoughts of Daryl in turmoil flooded your mind. When Rick had found you earlier, he thanked you for what you did and reassured you Daryl would make it back. But it was so hard to be certain… though, you tried your hardest.

After a day or two, you caught up with Maggie on top of the wall. She’d been manning the guard post ever since Rick got back, waiting for Glenn. You were silent as you climbed the ladder and stood next to her. You scanned the view of the road and tried not to feel queasy at the sight of all the walkers pressing against the wall and the front gate. Their groans never ceased, even long after the sun went down.

“Hey,” you said softly, but loud enough to be heard over the groaning.

She nodded in response.

“They’ll be back, Maggie,” you tried, offering some sort of comfort. Even though you weren’t entirely sure yourself, you hated to see others hurting too.

“I’m trying to believe that,” she answered, her eyes still on the road ahead. The trees swayed a little in the light breeze and the putrid smell of rotting corpses drifted momentarily.

“Daryl…” you started, taking a breath, “he said, the night before they left, that he would always come back.”

Maggie tore her eyes away from the road to look at you.

You nodded, “If Daryl said that, then Glenn… Glenn would do _anything_ to get back to you. I know it.”

She swallowed and blinked away the tears before they could spill, and she touched your shoulder. “Thanks,” she said, nodding. Then she dropped her hand, gripping the rifle again, “Daryl will too.” She paused. “I remember the way he was, back at the prison,” she swallowed, happy to be distracted from the situation at hand as she thought of the past. “He wanted to stay at the highway and wait, even though the herd would have killed him. When we dragged him away, he went out every morning looking for you.” Her eyes looked to yours and there was a sense of truth in them, “I’m not saying this to make you feel bad but… he had a rough time, he just didn’t want to show it. He’d come back without you, and I could see it in his face. At the prison, he became quiet. Never wanted to talk ‘bout the farm. Never wanted to talk ‘bout you, no matter how hard I tried,” she smiled a little, but it was sad. Her hands twisted around the gun as she shifted its position. “I’d bring things up ‘bout the farm and he’d go silent or… his expression ‘d go vacant. He blamed himself for it… he thought you were dead, Y/N, we all did.”

You swallowed. You'd guessed that’s what they would have thought because your chances against a herd of walkers was slim, since you were on your own. You thought any of them could’ve died, too. But it was hard to hear out loud, for real. It was harder than you thought.

“So, now that he’s got you again now?” she continued, “That’s not something he’s gonna just let go, not that easily. What he said…” she nodded, looking out to the road again, “what he said, ‘bout coming back to you, _always?_ It’s true.”

You were staring at her when she gasped, her eyes widening at something far off in the distance. You turned to where she was looking and saw a bunch of green balloons floating up into the sky. A smile replaced her confused frown.

It was Glenn.

You both clambered down the ladder, Maggie first, and she ran towards the opposite wall where Rick stood. You were still looking up at the sky once you reached the ground, the green balloons a beacon of hope that Glenn had survived the herd.

You swallowed, looking away, thinking of Daryl.

Suddenly, a heavy sound cracked through the air and disrupted the hope the balloons had brought. Splitting wood. You watched as the tower fell over the wall, bringing it down, an explosive echo of metal against asphalt. The sound brought the walkers to the fresh opening in the wall and the dead clambered into Alexandria.

You reached for your gun which was strapped to your belt as the walkers tore through the grass. You ran towards a house nearby the guard post you were just manning with Maggie, but you tripped over from the sudden rush of adrenalin and panic. You tumbled into the grass and rolled, the sky rolling through your vision. You picked yourself up quickly, staggering towards the house as the groans of the walkers grew louder and louder. You made it to the porch and tried the door, but it was locked.

“ _Fuck!_ ” you breathed, scanning the oncoming crowd of roamers. You watched as Maggie ran for the ladder and climbed it, only barely making it to the guard post on the wall. The walkers crowded around the bottom of the ladder, their hands reaching up for the fresh flesh they could smell.

You turned and tried for the window, but it was also locked, and you felt like screaming with frustration. Instead, you let it be, knowing sound would only draw them closer. You ducked behind the porch railing, which was covered by bushes, and hoped it would be enough cover for now, until you could work something else out.

You suddenly had a thought. You crept out from the porch, taking a walker down with one swift movement. It crumpled to the dirt and you moved on, heading down the side of the house. There weren’t any windows unlocked but there was a wooden fencing over the underneath of the porch. You kicked it in as quietly as you could, though there were already a lot of shouts and gunfire all over Alexandria, so the walkers were distracted by all sorts of sounds.

You climbed through the small hole you made to get underneath the porch and crawled through the dirt on your stomach, dragging yourself under cover. But just before you could get your feet inside, a walker latched onto your ankle with its clammy fingers. You turned, only barely refraining from shouting in surprise. You pulled the knife from your belt and stabbed it through its eye socket.

It dropped at the hole, covering the entrance mostly, and maybe it was better to have its dead smell mask your fresh sweat. You pulled yourself inside fully, knife still in one hand, and listened to the feet shuffling through the grass and the dirt around the house you were under.

If Daryl were going to make his way back, you hoped it would be soon... But then again, it might be much safer wherever he was…

The gunfire soon ceased but dusk was crawling into night. You were lucky to be relatively safe underneath the porch, with the dead walker still covering the entrance. No other walker sensed your whereabouts since you were so quiet. The air was getting chillier and lying in the dirt wasn’t helping in warming you up.

You weren’t sure what you were waiting for. Every now and then, you’d crawl to the front of the porch and peer through the holes of the wooden covering to the guard post along the wall, where Maggie climbed to safety. You could see her but the number of walkers underneath her grew dangerously in size.

As you thought about a way to draw them away, a loud gunshot cracked through the air, and horrified screams ensued.

Some walkers, but not all, pulled themselves away from Maggie. They stumbled down the road and the side of the house you hid under. You heard Rick shout desperately for Carl and more screams followed, and your stomach dropped. You felt like you _had_ to do something, but how could you find them in all of this chaos?

You spotted movement near one of the walls, and realized it was Rosita, and some others you couldn’t quite make out clearly in the night, bashing in walker heads.

“Shit,” you breathed, crawling over the top of the walker that covered the hole you’d made. You always hated having to touch their slimy corpses, but then again, you’d gotten used to it over the years.

You clambered out from the side of the house after the walkers disappeared. The crowd that gathered underneath Maggie’s ladder was too many for one person to take down. And you still didn’t know what the hell happened to Rick and Carl, but you didn’t know where in Alexandria they were situated. There was just so much noise, everywhere, all around, and there was no way you could figure out any of it.

You spotted Enid crawling on the top of the wall towards Maggie, and you heard Glenn shouting from the wall next to the house. The panic, it was still there, but now was not the time to crawl away and hide from the world. You rushed towards him, taking out walkers on the way.

He spotted you as you approached him, and you turned so that you could help defend him from the oncoming wave. The screeches and groans and cold fingers grabbing for warm flesh all reminded you of that night on the farm when the herd tore it apart. You shook your head, swallowing to moisten your dry throat and mouth. Your heart was racing fast, and your forehead was shining with sweat. But you wouldn’t let it get to you, not now. You couldn’t. Glenn needed you.

“Y/N,” Glenn breathed, shoving a walker away as he put it down. “Maggie—she’s—she’s stuck, I—I—” 

“Glenn!” you yelled, bringing him out of his own panic. You didn’t look at him and instead fought off the walkers as they came. You forgot about your knife and instead fired your gun, knowing that it didn’t matter about the sound anymore. There was too many of them for it to matter.

Just like on the farm.

As two walkers approached much too quickly, you had to decide which one you were going to take down when a loud gunshot cracked through the air and one of the walkers fell to your feet. You took the other one down quickly and scanned for the person who took a shot. It was Maggie, who was now safe with Enid. She continued shooting down walkers left and right as they approached both you and Glenn.

You kept firing too and stabbing if you had the chance. You were aware that you didn’t have a lot of ammo left. As you fired and stabbed, as your world echoed loudly with the screams of the dead, hungry for your flesh, you scanned for any opportunity to escape this madness. But there was none. You were trapped in an ocean of death, the waves huge and merciless.

Glenn was still fighting beside you. Maggie still tried her best to shoot down walkers as they approached. You were out of ammo after your last two shots were fired and now you were only onto your knife.

Both you and Glenn were practically pressed against the steel wall. The stream of walkers was never ending. It was like you were thrown in the deep end, a pit of certain death. You were growing tired from lifting your arm, but the adrenalin somehow kept you going. In the background, you could hear gunfire and crying. Maggie was shouting for Glenn.

A walker latched onto your arm with its cold fingers and squeezed, trying to open up the muscle under your flesh. You barely shoved it away, it stumbled but another came instead. You stabbed it through the head but as the body fell, it took your knife with it.

Now, you were weaponless.

You grabbed for your gun, which was empty of ammo, but you slammed the butt of it into the oncoming walker’s head again and again. The attack was far too slow and other walkers were soon grabbing at your shirt. Glenn did his best to get them off you, but he had his own to deal with, and Maggie’s gun had already run out of bullets.

You looked at Glenn. In your last moments, you wanted to look at someone you trusted and cared for, not at the face of rotting flesh—

Suddenly, gunfire echoed over the wall and the oncoming wave of walkers fell to their knees, their faces in the ground. You ducked at the sound, next to Glenn, arms raised over your head. When it was over, you cautiously peered up over the dead corpses and saw Abraham and Sasha with their guns. They stood on top of a truck just outside the wall.

They shot down more walkers and for the second time in your life, when you thought it really _was_ the end, you had another chance.

You got to your feet and spotted the truck at the now open gate. You felt light-headed and your heart was racing like crazy. You huffed, gasping for breath, realizing how close you were to dying. But you were still breathing, somehow, and there were no bites or scratches.

The door to the driver’s seat swung open and Daryl hung off the side, “Y/N!” he yelled, catching sight of you in the distance. The sound of his voice brought your eyes to him and you felt like crying with relief.

You weren’t sure how you still had any energy left but you managed to make your way over to the truck. Daryl sat back at the wheel as you ran towards him, the door still open. You dodged past the few walkers that remained at this side of the wall. Abraham and Sasha managed to take down a good many with their heavy-duty guns. You neared the front of the truck and ran to Daryl’s door. You jumped up the step and clambered onto his lap, pulling the door to the driver’s seat shut behind you.

The crazy noise outside became muffled when the door closed. You quickly found Daryl’s eyes, bright blue in the dark. His face was smudged with dust and dirt and sweat. His hair was ruffled and pushed back from his eyes. “Daryl—” you breathed, straddling one of his legs. But before you could say anything else, he pressed his lips against yours, almost desperately.

You kissed him back, your hand reaching for the side of his face. His arms wrapped around your waist and he pulled you close against him as the kiss deepened, his palm pressed against the small of your back. You both tasted like salt and sweat.

He sighed when you touched his hair. His hands slid up the sides to rest on your neck and jaw, holding your face close. The kiss parted when the passenger door opened and closed, a squeak against the material of the seat, and your eyes darted at the sound of Glenn entering the truck.

He glanced at the pair of you, you on top of Daryl, hands on each other; heavy breathing. Glenn swallowed, “You two have the worst timing,” he said, shaking his head.

You flushed red and dropped to the side to sit in between Glenn and Daryl. Daryl fell silent, staring out through the windshield. Glenn suggested that the truck could lead the walkers away, but Daryl disagreed with a grunt and a shake of his head. He had another plan in mind.

There were still hundreds of walkers crowding the streets of Alexandria. Like an ocean of corpses, rippling in waves, their groans filled the night air.

Daryl knocked his fist against the roof of the truck and then started to drive when all was clear. He backed the truck up against the water and pulled up the handbrake. He nodded to Glenn who got out of the truck, his knife at the ready. Daryl touched your leg, “Stay here, I’ll be right back.” He clambered out his side of the truck, despite your attempt at arguing, and made his way to the back to let the fuel from the tank into the lake.

Daryl was back in seconds and the others climbed inside the truck, while he got onto the roof with what looked to be some kind of bazooka. Abraham edged the truck near the lake on the other side and when he stopped, Daryl shot the large weapon so that the lake was set on fire. You stared out behind you through the truck’s passenger window, into the side mirror, and saw the flames engulf the water and any walker that touched it.

You were reminded of the barn, when it was set on fire that night of the herd, and the walkers engulfed in flames, like they walked straight out of hell itself.

Though you felt trapped in the truck, longing for Daryl’s comfort, and watching the world on fire, it was a good plan. All the walkers noticed the sudden sound and new light source, which drew them closer to the water and the fire.

You exited the truck to help take out the rest of the walkers. Even though your bones ached, your soul ached, everything, you fought against the final wave of the dead with the help of your friends. You stuck close by to Daryl, both using your knives to put the corpses down for good, back to back, arm to arm, you didn’t stray from each other’s side as you cleared the street.

Everyone worked together in the final hours of the night. Together, you cleared the dead and made Alexandria safe again.

Dawn came when you found your way to the infirmary after the chaos had calmed. The screeches and groans had disappeared, and all that was left was silence, and the morning birds chirping. You followed Daryl inside the infirmary.

Denise eyed you both, for you were just as much of a sore sight as him. Blood ended up coating your clothes, dirt smudged your cheeks and sweat dampened everything else. You didn’t know if you had any injuries, you were still running off adrenalin. The exhaustion seeped in, making your bones ache and your muscles burn.

“Y/N first,” Daryl managed, nodding his head towards you.

You shook yours, “I’m fine.”

He was about to argue when Denise spoke up, “I’ll give you a quick check and if you _are_ fine, then I’ll move onto Daryl, okay?”

You nodded your head. She inspected your arms for any signs of fresh blood and open wounds. Your shirt wasn’t torn through, so there were no wounds on your chest or back. Neither your legs. As you sat down on the chair near the bed, you felt your eyes droop and your body started to loosen up, your shoulders relaxed.

She moved onto Daryl when there was nothing that needed urgent tending to on you. Daryl needed a couple stiches in his shoulder for what looked like a small gash, maybe a knife wound, but it wasn’t a bite. You were growing sleepier and sleepier. The soft noises of small-talk and birds, the footsteps going in and out of the room, the clinking and clattering of steel against steel and folding of fabric with movement…

“Hey,” a voice said.

You opened your eyes, blinking them as your sight adjusted, and you found yourself staring into Daryl’s eyes. He was crouched in front of you.

“Mm?” you said, rubbing your eyes awake. You got up from the chair you were slumped in and noticed Denise had a new patient to tend to.

“C’mon,” he said, grabbing your arm carefully. He led you out of the infirmary and back to the house. The cool morning air was fresh against your skin and you woke up a bit more at the sudden change in temperature. The streets were coated with walkers. Clearing their bodies would be a task, but a task for another day since you felt as though you might drop as dead as they were at any moment.

Daryl opened the front door of the house and led you upstairs to the bathroom on the second floor. He closed the door behind him, and you took a seat on the edge of the bathtub.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he said.

“Mm,” you agreed, with a slight nod. You shut your eyes and tilted your head up at him, picturing his soft, small smile in your mind. “Just shove me in the tub, that’ll do.”

“Nah,” he replied, with a dry laugh, and turned on the basin. You listened to the water fill up the sink, it was rhythmic and almost put you to sleep right there and then.

You opened your eyes at Daryl’s touch against your face. His fingers lifted your chin a little, and with a clean face cloth he found in the cupboard, now damp with warm water, he wiped away the blood, dirt and sweat on your face and neck. Every now and then, he’d turn back to the basin to rinse the cloth fresh again before resuming his work.

As he dabbed away at your face, you touched his arm. Holding his wrist. He didn’t cave so quickly, and instead kept cleaning the grime off your cheeks. You closed your eyes and he steadied your face with his other hand as he continued. His fingers brushed by your ear and curled in your hair.

You suddenly felt the exhaustion, _really_ felt it, and it was almost too much. Words bubbled at the edge of your lips, threatening to spill out and you were suddenly afraid you’d say anything to him.

Daryl emptied the sink, the dirty water was sucked down the drain, and soon he splashed warm water over his own face. After he was finished, you stared up at him. The hair that fell around his face was wet, so it stuck. His skin was fresh and clean, you could see his eyes a little better now. The bright blue.

You stood up, barely, almost toppling over, and kissed his mouth. He returned the favor, his fingers brushing back your hair from your face. It was soft and gentle, slow. His other hand rested on your waist. Your arms were draped around his neck, your fingers curled at the edge of his hair. He sighed, leaving a long-lasting impression on your lips before he broke away.

“I found you again, didn’t I?” he said, unsure.

You nodded.

He looked at your nervously, “It was a close call though, huh. When I saw you and Glenn like that—”

You leaned your face close to his, your lips near, maybe touchinghis, but you didn’t kiss him again.

“I just…” he continued, quietly, “What if I was seconds too late? What then?”

“You weren’t,” you replied, and your hands found his face. You held his cheeks, his skin still damp. “You weren’t too late.”

He pulled your hands away from his face, and he nodded. He kissed your fingers and your heart fluttered at the sight. The affection you shared had always been there but now it would be shown in different ways, new ways.

“You gotta shower,” he said.

“Mm,” you replied, “wanna help shampoo my hair?”

He shook his head, his cheeks flushing pink. He pushed the hair away from your eyes again, and repeated, “Shower.” He practically ordered, refusing your attempt at making him weak in the knees. “I’ll see you after I’ve had mine, a‘ight?”

You sighed, “Alright.” You watched him disappear out of the bathroom, but not before he turned on the hot water for you. You stripped your dirty, sweaty clothes from your damp skin and stepped into the water. You sighed against the sudden warmth, your muscles relaxing fully now. The steam curled at your ankles and rose to the ceiling. As you shampooed your hair, you hummed a little tune you remembered singing before the turn. Your fingers touched your lips as you thought of sharing those kisses with Daryl and a smile stretched your lips thin. You felt like laughing.


End file.
